Traitor's Tale
by AurionFool
Summary: Born amidst chaos, raised to be a knight and more than punished for befriending a half-elf, Kratos has a difficult choice to make. Stay loyal to Tethe'allan court, with all its intrigues, or save the world, even if it means to trust half-elves once more?
1. Chapter 1  Part 1

**Tales of Symphonia  
Traitor's Tale**

_Born amidst the chaos of war, raised to be a knight and more than punished for befriending a half-elf, Kratos Aurion has a difficult choice to make. Stay loyal to Tethe'allan court, with all its intrigues, or save the world of Aselia, even if it means to trust half-elves once more? _

_A Kratos Aurion story about the Kharlan War, from beginning to end. _

**Author's notes:**  
I had previously uploaded this to my old account, but received some comments on my older fics, wondering if I were going to go "that way" with this. I'll just say that I intend on finishing this eventually, no matter how long it takes me. And I intend to do it well.

**An important note about the plot:**  
While I've watched most of its footage in a magnificent walkthrough by WishingTikal, I simply feel that Dawn of the New World's plot was utter rubbish. People like Kratos, Yuan and Mithos wouldn't have "forgotten" about this secret extra spirit who accidentally was betrayed on the go. Furthermore: Marta Sue. Enough said?  
I pretty much liked to wave at DotNW as it passed by, and regard it as "canon" as Zelos' death.  
As such, there will be no mention of Ratatosk, Centurions etc. in this entire fan fiction.

**Last not but least, about the characters:  
**Since I am not too good when it comes to naming things (people, cities, pets), you might come across some very familiar names. Namco has always had a soft spot for cameo appearances, so I will take it for granted that somewhere on the go some characters might have had the same names. Think of it like FF always having a Cid?  
In addition to this I feel that I should really tell you that Soleila is in fact a real character, though she was mentioned only very briefly in Tales of Fandom. Yuan mentions how Kratos had left her side, and Kratos doesn't seem too happy about it. (and yes, I managed to use one simple sentence from Fandom as the backbone for quite a big part of the plot. Scold or praise me later.)

And without further ado...

* * *

**The beginning of it all**

_Once upon a time, there existed a giant tree, that was the source of Mana.  
A war, however, caused this tree to wither away.  
And a hero's life was sacrificed in order to take its place.  
Grieving over the loss, the Goddess disappeared onto the heavens.  
The Goddess left the Angels with this edict:  
"You must wake me, for if I should sleep, the world shall be destroyed."  
The Angels bore the Chosen One, who headed towards the tower that reached up onto the heavens.  
And that marked the beginning of the regeneration of the world. _

Once again I stare at the words, pondering how often I have written them down by now. Surely, I could easily look around and count the amount of ruined pieces of parchment I've swooped off my desk, but I simply know, regardless of numbers, that there are too many. After having been here on Derris Kharlan for a long time, I found there was little left to do. I have done most of my tasks, and apart from wanting to fulfill my last promises, not much else is there left to do. Writing down the true history of the world I left behind is one of those promises I made, yet, it's far from simple. With every attempt, I find myself writing the history of my companions and I, rather than the impersonal history of Aselia itself. Perhaps I should just carry on with writing what my heart desires. It does hint toward Aselia's true history more than any other personal tale you could find. After all, four millennia is more than even most Elves live to see.

So here I go again, writing what I definitely should try not to. But with my mind set on it, I have little choice.

I should start with the day that marked the beginning of it all for me. A day that's been in and out of my memory, painful to recall, but I don't think any other day would be more suitable to begin with.

It was a remarkably warm day in spring, something I will never forget for I'd never seen my generous teacher take off his winter cloak that early in the year. Underneath it, he wore a simple cheap shirt, which was patched and he apologized to me. After all, you weren't really supposed to be so tattered in front of the duke's son.  
"That's alright, sir." I told him, trying not to eye how shabby he seemed all of a sudden. He shrugged it off and went on reading aloud. My parents were wealthy, and my upbringing was dedicated. I suppose that's what happens when you're a distant cousin of the Tethe'allan royal family.

My teacher, Master Avery, spoke of the Triet Desert that day, and claimed it was possibly the warmest place beside the cramped room we sat in. Usually, he'd ask me to meet him in the library, but that day the library was occupied by my father and some of his men. While I'd deliberately asked several times for his purpose there, he had told me I was too young to understand and had no reason to know anyway. Being 'already' ten years old and spoiled at that, I hadn't taken the answer for a no. Just like now, my mind then was set on it: I had to figure out what was going on.

As my teacher went on, I noticed the curtains hung still, even though both of the windows in the room were open, as well as the door behind me. I'd have expected a draft, or at least a gentle breeze, but nothing but warm air passed through the room, too slow to feel, and sweat ran down my forehead. Slowly, I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, and tried to keep up the act that I was in fact paying attention. My eyes wandered around the room after that, and I noticed that one of the banners had a hole in it, right on top of the wolf's eye. Or was it merely discolored?

"It was there that Efreet…"  
Right. Summon Spirits. Six of them, one for each element; plus Origin, plus Aska, plus Maxwell. Had it been a book displaying pictures of them, I'd have been interested, but alas, master Avery was merely describing Efreet's fiery appearance to me in his nasal voice.  
After about five more seconds of trying to pay attention, I carefully readjusted my feet several times, trying to find a comfy position, whilst trying not to disturb the old man, to no avail.

"Are you bored, young master?" he lowered the book which he had held close to his face to see it better, and looked at me with his piercing grey eyes. Deciding he wouldn't appreciate a lie, I just nodded. Old master Avery put the book down and scratched his long, dark grey beard in thought, while his bushy eyebrows furrowed.

"I think we… Well, perhaps we should call it a day," he decided after a moment. "It is quite hot, don't you think? It won't do either of us any good to stay in this hot and tiny room, if you don't mind me calling it tiny."

"Pity the library is occupied today; it is much cooler in there," I hinted, trying to sound as casual as my curiosity would let me. Master Avery closed his book after fiddling with a bookmark, and then put it on the stack he had brought with him. Deciding he hadn't fully understood my hint, I tried again, "Would you like me to bring those back for you?"

"No, no, Kratos… it is better if we don't disturb your father and his men for the time being."

I let out a sigh, annoyed that he would simply not answer my unspoken question, so I decided to voice it. "Why's that?"

"If he hasn't told you himself-,"

"He said he was too busy to tell me," I quickly threw it in. It wasn't completely untrue: my father had been fairly annoyed by my interruption, as he had indeed been rather busy. Of course, I wasn't going to tell master Avery that it was just a coincidence. The old man let out a sigh and his eyes met mine once more. Hesitantly, he finally dared say it, "They're setting up strategies for times to come."

While my young brain barely understood what this truly meant, I let out an understanding "ah" anyway. The last thing I wanted was for master Avery to think of me as a stupid kid.

I knew such strategies had to do with the war against the opposing country of Sylvarant, but details weren't given to me at the time. I'd grown used to it. After all, half of our grounds were used for training soldiers. Knights, even. For as long as I could remember, I wanted to be among my father's troops. To wield a sword, and lead Tethe'alla to victory…  
My father had always promised me that eventually I'd be allowed to undergo the training, but only if I had learned first things first. Reading, writing, basic math, history and the sort. My mother had seen to it that I was taught by the best of teachers, or so she'd heard when she'd found master Avery. Wise as he was, the man was near demented and hardly interested in me at all. So long as he had someone to listen to him, he was satisfied.

Deciding that master Avery wasn't going to share more details about my father's business, I let the old man klutz about with his pile of books and left the room, slamming the door shut behind me without looking back even once. In the hallways it was somewhat more bearable than it had been in the small study, though a breeze was too much to ask for.

I headed toward the end of the hallway where I paused, thinking of what to do. With this lesson being cancelled halfway, I'd have at least an hour more to do as I pleased. My stomach gave a soft gurgle and I decided to take a peek in the kitchens. Not the one from which my daily food came, but the soldiers' tavern, in the building next door. My feet automatically strolled down the hallways and a staircase or two, leaving the mansion through one door only to enter the smaller building less than a minute later.

I inhaled the wondrous scents of the kitchen deeply as I closed the door shut behind me. The building was small compared to my house, but it felt more like home than anything. It was crammed full with long, wooden tables and equally long benches. On the other side of the room was a counter of sorts, behind which the kitchen was built. Momentarily I kept standing near the doorway, looking at the cook and the maids rush about the kitchen, obviously preparing for lunch time. It was remarkably silent, though it was without a doubt far too early for most soldiers to drop by yet. The few people that sat there looked up at me, others didn't, and altogether they didn't pay me any mind. It was this lack of interest in me that I found so soothing about this building.

To almost everyone I was Kratos Aurion, son of Duke Aurion, almost nephew of the King of Tethe'alla. I was no longer considered an actual nephew to my King, due to the simple fact that we were not related by blood. Before I was even born, my father's sister had been married to the King, thus tying my Aurion blood to the royal Tethe'allan family. It had been a political marriage, to bring two of the most favored families together, and to create a respectable heir to the Tethe'allan throne.

Sadly, my aunt passed away, long before she'd ever carried a new heir, and all ties between both families should have been severed , had it not been for my father's kind interference. The King had come to like his brother in law, and had never taken back the position he'd given him. And so my father had remained one of the most influential military figures in all of Tethe'alla.

Despite my privileges, I often wished I'd been born elsewhere. A free man, rather than being imprisoned between two mountainsides and two walls, confined to a mansion and boring classes with boring teachers. To be able to live happily with my parents, rather than barely recognizing them among the mass of other people they were almost always accompanied by.

I snuck behind the counter and prodded a somewhat plump older woman with graying hair tied in a bun on the back of her head. She almost dropped the spoon she'd been holding in surprise and I shushed her playfully as she let out the usual annoyed sigh. Rose, as she was called, often told me to steer clear of the soldiers' tavern as it was no place for a "boy". The rough talk, the noise, and sometimes the brawling among the men were all deemed far too dangerous by her. I saw them as interesting forms of entertainment instead, much more enjoyable, even more educational, than any minstrel that ever came by. The gossip among men was different from women's, I'd found out quickly, in that it was often remarkably accurate, save for the bragging, and far more interesting too. After all, hearing about some stain in cloth isn't as interesting as hearing about a wild boar chase.

"I'm starving. Could you…" I asked with a bit of a grin. Rose rolled her eyes, and clacked her tongue impatiently. She had this way of scolding me, trying to keep my manners in place.

"Please?" I added reluctantly. She let out another sigh but the usual smile came onto her red lips. It had worked once more.

Looking at her fellow maids and cooks, who were running up and down, stirring big pans, cutting ingredients and fretting over some burnt bread that came out of a smoking oven, Rose beckoned me to the back, behind a heavy wooden door. In there the scents tickled my nose and made my mouth water. It was used for storage of both fresh and cooked ingredients. Big hams hung upside down from the ceiling on one side, and the shelves on the walls were filled with baked bread, ready to be served at lunch time. I almost tripped over a sack of wheat I swear hadn't been there the day before.

My mother always saw to it that I was given no food but the best; fine small portions of rich ingredients, cooked perfectly and seasoned in detail. I always saw to it that I snuck most out of the room for the hounds, or ate an actual meal in the soldiers' kitchen beforehand. In the past, I'd stuffed myself beforehand for several days a little too much, and when I couldn't force any of the refined food down afterwards, she'd called a doctor. It took more than a dozen glares at the man for him to understand what I'd done and why, and he shushed my mum that it was no problem to not eat if one wasn't hungry. Afterwards he told me to try and find a balance to satisfy both me and my mother, and I suppose I succeeded. Save for that morning, since I'd just skipped breakfast altogether.

Rose gave me a bowl filled with thick soup that made my stomach roar, and a piece of bread which she broke in half. She took a seat opposite me at the empty table and nibbled on the other half of the bread, staring at me for a while as I wolfed it down.

"Didn't see ya this morning," she said. "You ate upstairs?"

I shook my head and almost choked on a gulp of soup when I tried to answer, "N-no… Sorry, no. I was late for Master Avery's class. Overslept. And the dining room smelled as if they'd dragged in something long dead. So…" I hesitated as she raised her eyebrows. "…I skipped breakfast."

She shook her head at me, waving a finger, "Skipping breakfast is bad for ya! And so is oversleeping… if ya were my kid, Kratos, I swear I'd kick ye outta bed at five to work right with me."

I shrugged and went on with my soup. Rose loved scolding me and for some reason I didn't mind. According to the rumors I'd heard, she'd not only lost her husband in the war, but also lost the baby she'd been expecting shortly after her husband's passing. Depression, or so I'd heard some maid say. It meant so little to me, the reasons why, but apparently it had led her to mothering me whenever she could.

Not half bad, since my own mother was often occupied, be it with headaches or be it with her many female companions. Those female giggle machines were noisy, pinched my cheeks and often commented on my "rough" appearance, much to my mother's annoyance. The comments about my appearance usually were about my hair. If there was anything I hated, it was sitting down for a haircut. Somehow every time someone cut it, it seemed to get worse than before and the female companions of my mother managed to say even worse things. So the only person to be able to restrain me to cut it was my father, and he was seldom around to go and catch me. Even as I sit writing this it still looks pretty much the same as it did then. Long, messy and unsymmetrical; the latter because I'd come to enjoy getting scolded by my mother (if only for an excuse to stay away from her monstrous company).

"It is quite early though… still about two hours till lunch," Rose said, leaning her head on her hand after finishing her bread.

I nodded, "Ye… master Avery complained about the heat and let me go so he could cool down a little. He could've just told about Celcius instead of Efreet though."

"Summon Spirits, eh… Interesting?"

"Not really," I admitted. "Especially not since they decided to not draw any pictures anymore. Adults are so boring."

Rose let out a laugh as she got up and picked up the empty bowl. With a wild movement she wiped crumbs off the table and pat me gently on the head, winking kindly.

"It's a mess," she said thoughtfully while she pulled on a strand of hair, as if she'd read my mind before.

"It's fine," I pushed her hand away and got up too, ruffling my hair with my hands some more.

"True. A _fine_ mess it is!" she said with another wink. "Now shoo before the cook decides to yammer about this again."

I left the storage room and quickly swooped out of the kitchen, into the dining area. The cook indeed yelled after me, or did he? I simply had no time to decipher his ranting as I bumped into a maid who'd been carrying off empty bowls from a table. I paid her no mind as she cursed aloud but rushed for the door instead, which I opened and slammed behind me. Silence. Absolute silence.

I stood in the hot sunlight, deeply inhaling the fresh scent of the morning. The door I had entered lead to the inner courtyard of the little settlement the several buildings formed. I always liked to think of our belongings as a small village of sorts, with my mansion as the council, making my father the mayor. In the middle of the courtyard was a massive patch of grass, an old oak tree at its center. Its blanket of leaves was brightly colored, casting a dark shadow on the area below it. I reckoned it was rather cool out of the sun, and began to walk for it.  
With another two hours till lunch, if Rose had been right, I could lie down in the grass for a while. Before I'd reached it, however, I heard the cook again and turned around to see.

Unlike I'd expected, he wasn't yelling at me for knocking the maid over. Instead, he was scolding a little boy I'd never seen before. I stared in awe at him, for he had an utterly impossible appearance. His face was pale, be it dirty, and some strands of poorly cut hair hung in it. Looked like someone had half shaved his head, without caring for the result. But what really made me wonder, was the color of his hair. His hairs were colored blue like the sky above. Never before had I encountered anyone with hair in such an impossible color, but it suited him well somehow. Even brighter than his hair were his eyes. Even from afar I could clearly see the bright green color of them, and I could've sworn that the grass would've looked grey in comparison.

Once I got over the shock brought on by his colorful features, I noticed that his ears were different from my own. Subtly pointed, the mark of a half-elf. My stomach twisted in disdain to it. Young as he was, the boy had already fallen subject to the horrid discrimination that went on in Aselia. Both Tethe'alla and Sylvarant looked down upon half-elves, for they were outcasts to both humans and elves. The elves lived secluded, hidden lives and kicked out any half-elves born among them. So the half-elves were forced to roam around the world, seeking petty jobs and being abused for being considered lesser. The reason why they were seen as lesser has always been a mystery to me. Seemingly, even folk as grand as humans or elves, need a scapegoat to kick around…

The roaming folk of half-elves were sometimes taken in by humans, be it as poorly paid workers, or worse: as slaves. My father had once told me how simplistic it was, the reason for forcing half-elves into becoming slaves. They were long-lived, a trait they inherited from the elves. Raise one well, teach him to serve his family, and in return give it the simple security of survival by supplying bed and food. In such a way, a single half-elf slave can live to serve a dozen of human generations.

Apparently, this boy had been taken in recently, and was to be trained for such a purpose. Barely older than me, and somewhat shorter, he still had something intimidating about him, even though he was crying silently with a pouty look on his face. The cook yelled at him, demanding an answer but the boy merely stared at his own feet. The cook raised a hand threateningly and yelled some more, but again the boy didn't respond. I closed my eyes in shock as the cook let his raised hand slam down. I heard it come down on the boy's face with a loud smack.

When I opened my eyes, the boy let out a roar of rage, his voice hoarse as if he hadn't used it for a while, "Don't touch me!"  
"How dare you speak back! You filthy mongrel!" the cook shouted back, his face turning red in anger. Again, the chubby hand was raised, but this time the boy wasn't willing to let it come down on his reddening cheek again. He ran right at the man, hands outstretched. With a massive flash and a jolting sound, the cook got blown off his feet and slammed into the wall behind him, breaking a barrel and sliding down slowly. For a second the boy seemed smug, rubbing his reddening cheek slowly and wiping the tears off his face, but then he realized that what he had done was pretty bad.

The cook didn't move, and a tiny stripe of blood trickled down from underneath the thinning black hair. I put a step toward them, but long before I could reach them, the door beside the boy opened. I watched as he jumped in shock when several people stormed out. A soldier and two maids, including the one I'd bumped into only minutes before.

"Did you do that? DID YOU!" the soldier grabbed the boy, shaking him thoroughly as he pointed at the unconscious cook. The boy didn't respond but just stared at the soldier in fear. The soldier looked at the maids, who'd gone over to check on the cook, asking if the poor man was alright.

"He's alive," one of them muttered. The other one ran back inside, probably to fetch help of sorts. While the soldier didn't pay attention only so briefly, the boy had shrugged him off and began to run the hell away. In the meantime, I had approached them silently, causing the boy, who hadn't noticed me at all – he was looking back over his shoulder– to slam right into me. Since I saw it coming, I managed to keep my footing, but the fellow fell onto his butt.

Like I'd thought, he was indeed a lot shorter than me, and it slightly pleased me. I stared down at him for a moment, trying to make eye contact but he refused to look at me. I turned my attention on the soldier instead. He was only about three feet away from me, sword in hand. He'd intended to chase the kid down, to punish him for the intolerable act. As he noticed it was me, he halted and I saw his grip on the sword loosen slightly.

The half-elven boy looked from me to the soldier and back again, while he slowly got onto his feet. I felt a bit smug; he really was a few inches shorter than me.

"Young master, this slave-," the soldier said, straightening his back and moving his feet nervously.

"He merely returned the favor," I interrupted him coolly. "I don't know what he did, but I can't imagine him to have deserved such a smack in the face. What did you do?" I asked, turning my attention to the boy, ignoring the stuttering guard. His eyes truly were too green to be real, and I had trouble forcing myself to look into them. With a nod at the cook, he quickly spoke or rather, he whispered.

"I brought the wrong ingredients to him… I didn't know there was a difference!" the last words he said which such panic, in such a high-pitched voice, I thought for sure he'd burst to tears. He did not, however, and his eyes flashed toward the unconscious cook again.

"That deserves no smack in the face, though… you really shouldn't have hit him like that," I said slowly, trying to pick my words carefully. Had I said he'd used magic, the soldier would gain the right to execute the kid right there and then. For any half-elf slave to use magic, meant losing what little rights they had left to them. In that sense they were treated worse than the hounds we kept at the stables…

The soldier stepped forward, shaking his head. He _knew_ that the kid had used magic, and wasn't going to lose this opportunity to prove himself.  
Right on cue, the boy quickly stepped around me and grabbed my arm as he hid behind me. He eyed the soldier from behind me, pressing his chin against my shoulder as he did.

The idea that someone deemed me strong enough to protect him made me feel a lot bigger than I was. Even as I saw the soldier's grip on the sword tighten once more, I kept my footing. I felt the boy tremble slightly.

"But he-," the soldier stammered, halting with a frustrated look on his face. He could hardly bump me out of the way and kill the boy I was willingly protecting. Insulting me, meant insulting my father, and that meant the soldier would lose his position, or possibly even his life. But right before the soldier made a choice, the door opened once more and the maid returned, together with Rose. I watched as she quickly observed the situation, placing her hands on her hips. She seemed to chew on her tongue as she stared at the mess before her.  
"Well, what have we here…" she said, her voice breaking the tension abruptly.  
Rose looked from one side, where the cook lay, to the other, where we stood, and then finished by waving a finger at the soldier. With a disappointed face, and a bit of a scoff, he let his sword fall back into his sheath and bowed before me.

"My apologies, young master,"

Rose placed a hand on his shoulder, with some effort as he was rather tall, "Thanks for understanding, Fernando. It was just an accident. If anyone's to blame it is me. Had I not been occupied I could've given the boy exactly what he was looking for. Besides, I heard that he'd been smacked in the face -his cheek is still red!-, which is good for nothing. The kid's been here for only a few days, he needs time to learn."

"But he's a mere-,"  
"I will have no such rubbish, Fernando. You very well know how I deal with people spitting such rot at me!" Rose's eyes seemed to light up with fury as she spoke the words. A shiver passed my spine upon seeing her anger, but I made sure not to let anyone notice. Especially not the boy who was still clinging onto my arm.

Fernando the soldier left without saying a word. I wryly watched as he marched alongside the grassy field, toward the soldiers' barracks.

Rose went to help the cook get up, as he'd somehow regained consciousness in the meantime. Figuring that they were occupied, I turned around and looked at the half-elf, shrugging his gripping hand off. He let go, blushing violently when he realized how he'd been clinging onto me.

"Won't I be in trouble?" he asked timidly, staring at his feet once more. I shook my head and placed a hand on his shoulder. He looked up and I managed to smile a bit at him, trying to get him to smile back. No such thing happened as he was still too aware of the situation.

"Nah, no trouble…" I added to my smile, and for a moment I saw the corner of his mouth twitch nervously. Almost, I managed to make him smile back, but what little confidence I'd pumped into him ran right out of him. Behind us, the cook had gotten onto his feet and was cursing at the boy loudly. I heard Rose tell him to shut his fat face, and they broke into arguing about half-elf rights. The boy's brow furrowed and he stared at his feet again.

"You know what, let them be. C'mon," I said, beckoning him as I stepped ahead of him. He looked at me curiously. For a moment he hesitated but then he quickly caught up to me. I lead the way, and he followed, half a pace to my left and behind me. Apparently someone had lectured him on how to follow a superior properly already.

We didn't say anything as we walked around the kitchen building, toward my mansion. Once inside, a few people turned their heads to stare at us as we walked through the hallways, some going so far as to mutter or whisper about us, but I paid them no mind. The half-elf followed my example and didn't respond to any of this either. Every few steps I glanced back, to find he was still there. It filled me with a strange kind of pride, to know that someone would follow my orders like it.

We went up two flights of stairs and I automatically walked down the hallway, going right and heading for the door at the end of the corridor. The door was made of the same dark wood as all other doors, yet it was painted with the Aurion coat of arms. A wolf across a cross, which was detailed with white and a color caught in between blue and purple for which I still have found no appropriate name.

I opened the door and gestured for him to enter. He hesitated and finally decided to keep his ground. I clearly remember how surprised I was at this. Never before had anyone refused a polite gesture; I should know, since I rarely made them. He quickly explained to me in a low voice, "But I'm just a… slave. I should be the one to let _you_ in. Not the other way around."

"Nonsense," I said and I grabbed him by the arm to drag him in with a grin. "You're no slave anymore."

It was then that his unusually green eyes filled with tears. I could merely watch him as he walked into my room. I closed the door behind me, slightly aghast that he cried at words so simple while he hadn't cried when facing death. Or hadn't he realized that the soldier would really have executed him on the spot had I not stepped in?

He wiped the tears away and sniffed.

"So," I said, and I clambered onto my desk to sit on it, after which I gestured he take the chair. "What's your name?"

"Yuan…" he muttered as he sat down carefully, his eyes avoiding me.

"Speak up! I don't bite… hard…" I added teasingly. Apparently he could appreciate my poor sense of humor as he smiled back shyly.

"Yuan, sir!" he said a lot louder than before. At least his voice seemed to be less of a squeak that way. I held my hand out to him and he looked at it in shock.

"I'm Kratos," I offered.  
He merely gazed at my hand and then looked at his own hands in confusion. He faltered, uncertain of what to do. His hands were rather dirty after all. As were his face and his feet, which were bare. His clothes were no better, not to mention that they were simple and tattered, even though he hadn't been around for long yet. Or so Rose had just exclaimed.  
I raised my eyebrows.

"I know who you are…" he whispered hoarsely. "And I'm just…"

I rolled my eyes and let out a sigh, "Just shake the hand, Yuan!"

"B-but I'm a half-elf," he almost choked up the words. But as he did, he stared so defiantly, it was as if it made all the difference in the world.

"Yeah… so?"

His eyes widened, losing all fire in them within a second. Figuring that he had never had a human treat him as an equal, I decided to try and explain. What came out of my mouth were the thoughts of disdain I'd have wanted to word to anyone for so long. They were the reasons that I couldn't comprehend why people looked down on half-elves the way they did.

"Listen, I don't care _what_ you are. It's not like you chose to be a half-elf, right? I never chose to be me either. We just are. So…" I made a beckoning gesture with the fingers of my outstretched hand. With a determined face he grabbed the hand and shook it. At first he barely dared touch me, but within seconds we were squeezing as if it were a power struggle. When we let go we were smiling.

That day marked the beginning of the weirdest ever friendship, rivalry and so many other things more.

* * *

Should you come across any typos or grammar flaws, please let me know and I will fix them straight away.  
I always appreciate constructive criticism, so perhaps leave me a review on your way out.  
So... I hope you enjoyed. Until next time!


	2. Chapter 1 Part 2

**Tales of Symphonia  
Traitor's tale**

**Author's notes:**  
I will never like how ffnet dubs these uploads "chapters". This is more like the second part of the first chapter, still. That might a nice clue as to how big this will become if given time...  
On a word doc it looks quite good, whereas here I can't help but notice that the paragraphs more look like walls of text than anything. Tried to fix that, but not sure if it is any less tedious to read now.

I know the first chapter (PART!) had a bold title before it began, but that was an earnest mistake. I tend to label drafts I wrote, and I simply forgot to remove it. This one's label was just... meh. It can hardly function as a decent title, and most other labels can't either. So from now on (granted I won't forget again) there will be no more chapter titles.

Enjoy!

* * *

It humors me to think of how naive I used to be. I'd asked Yuan to tell me where he'd come from and sat listening in awe.  
He'd been born in Sylvarant, near the city of Asgard in a mountainous region. His father, a human, had been enchanted by an elven woman, and they fell in love. The elf, Yuan's mother, had died giving birth to him, and his father had kept him for several years, until he no longer could afford to feed him.

Having fathered a half-elf, having lost his wife, and being looked down upon for both, Yuan's father had broken down. The man gave up most of his work, to be able to care for the baby he was left with, and was looked down upon keeping alive a child of what folk refer to as "Tainted blood". In the end he didn't have enough money anymore to be able to feed himself and his son, and he had no other choice than to abandon Yuan.

"He said that one day he'd come back… that, once he has money, he will come to buy me back…" Yuan finished silently, with little hope in his voice, and he pulled his knees up to his face, staring at the carpet he sat on wryly. "I saw how much they gave him in trade for me. Even _I_ will be grey and old by the time he gets that kind of coin again, just by working."

For any half-elf to turn old and grey… I leaned forward, putting my elbows on my knees, resting my head on my hands. I'd taken the chair from my desk, and he sat on the carpet before me. As we sat there he was only slightly younger than me, but in the end he'd outlive me. A shiver unwillingly passed my spine and my stomach twisted just by the thought of it. Me, grey and old, and then Yuan still looking like he's a mere forty, or thirty even. It also meant that his father would never be able to free his son.

"I could pay you…" I said finally. He turned to look at me curiously. I shrugged.

"Surely, I can hardly give you that much, since I don't have much myself. But every coin helps, right?"  
It wasn't entirely true. If there ever was anything I wanted, I just had to say and I'd get it, regardless of price. But at the same time there was a core of truth to my words: personally, I did not have the money. I only had the right to demand it was spent, but never touched the actual Gald.

"I don't think any slave can buy his own freedom," Yuan muttered bitterly. "Besides, nobody will want a slave that gets paid. Not much of a slave then!"

"Then you'll be my servant,"

He stared at me blankly, blinking his eyes. I smirked at him, confident by my own cleverness. While there were several slaves on our grounds, doing the filthier and impersonal jobs, my father kept a decent amount of true servants too. They slept together in one of the buildings on the other end of the grounds, and got paid for their services and were treated properly – to an extent at least.

My father had a personal servant too, one that was always about when my father was at home. Always cleaning up behind him, or making preparations before my father entered any room. He was always helping with all sorts of trivial things as well. Whenever my father was out in the field, this servant of his went home to his family, to spend whatever coin he'd gained.

While my father had assigned several maids and servants to me in the past, I'd always waved them out. At least, once I turned six or seven, I decided I did not need such silly help any longer. I hardly needed anyone to watch me change clothes, help me scrub my back, or yet another person to complain about the tangled mess of hair on my head.

"Won't anyone mind?" Yuan asked curiously. "I mean, what about the other slaves? And the other servants?"

"The other servants just lost a privilege. One none of them would want anyway…" I twisted some of my hair around my finger playfully and then answered Yuan's new curious frown. "My father's the only one fast enough to catch me, to cut my hair. I don't want anyone else to do it. Don't wanna look like a clown. Had that enough as a kid."

"They pretty much shaved mine…" Yuan said, a blush creeping onto his pale cheeks, and he rubbed his short, uneven blue hairdo. I smirked and sat back in my chair, folding my arms at him while I observed. He looked like a mess. He wore a simple brown tunic of sorts, his feet bare. Gross as those feet, his hands weren't much better, and his face had a brown stripe across a cheek too. The other cheek was still slightly pink from where the chef had hit him.

"The other slaves can go to hell," I decided simple as that and I opened my mouth to order him. But I thought better of it and bit my tongue, staring thoughtfully at his grubby appearance some more.  
Deciding I could not have him demand it in my place, I got up, "Stay here, I need to fetch something."

I looked back at him once. A sad little fellow he seemed, sitting lonely on the carpet like it, knees pulled to his face, his cheeks still wet with the silent tears he'd shed while speaking of his parents. Then I slammed the door shut and took a deep breath. I'd already gotten this far, I could hardly bring him back…  
So I went, rushing through the hallways till I came across a maid. Swiftly, I positioned myself in front of her and the scoff that came onto her face quickly disappeared as she realized who she was dealing with. She almost seemed bemused, but I took little notice of it.

"Bring a tub and plenty of hot water up to my quarters. And some clean garments while you're at it," I demanded. For a second she hesitated but then she smiled and curtsied before me, "I'll see to it as soon as possible, young master."

I stepped aside to let her pass. As she scurried past me I came to realize that I didn't know her face at all. To add to that, her clothes seemed different from the other maids'. For a moment I kept staring at the empty hallway she'd left, pondering who I'd just ordered about. But she'd agreed to do it, be it reluctantly. I shrugged it off and turned on my heel, heading back to my room.

When I returned I slammed the door shut behind me and stared at the little heap of half-elf on my carpet. His green eyes pierced my own gaze and I almost felt guilty about my act. I'd dragged an almost executed half-elf slave to my room, and he sat on the carpet before my only chair, staining the soft fabric with his filthy clothes and limbs. I declared he'd be my servant, just like that, but already I'd come across a problem. How could I possibly have him demand things on my behalf like it?

"There's a bit of a flaw in my plan…" I said slowly. A blue eyebrow went up questioningly.

"You can't really…" I let out a groan of annoyance, trying to make up my mind as I spoke. "You can hardly go about and do things in my stead. Like, I can't send you out to fetch me anything just yet, since nobody knows of your new status. And you don't look it, at all."

And I hadn't even mentioned his race yet. No-one would want to take orders or advice from a half-elf, even if it's on behalf of his human master. But the other problems could be solved. His appearance and smell were going to be taken care of in a matter of minutes. And I could ask my father to allow it; he could make Yuan's change of status public for my sake. Hadn't father always complained about his son's lonely habits after all? This would solve that, making it even more likely for the man to help me.

"S-so…" Yuan asked nervously.

I looked deeply into the impossibly green eyes for a minute more, hesitating. Then I took a deep breath and made my choice. I'd have to try and talk my father into it.

"So I asked a maid to bring a bath, for you. And some clothes, for you. And once my father has time I'll discuss things with him. That'll probably be at dinner tonight. And if not I can at least try to sneak out some food for you. Don't want you smelling or starving in my bedroom," I added to it all, with a mocking grin on my face. He hesitated but returned the smile, and we sat staring at each other for a few moments like it.

The silence was broken by the sound of a knock on the door. I nodded at it, wondering if he'd grasp it. He did: Yuan got up, scurrying over and he opened the door, bowing for whoever came in.

It was the same maid I'd ordered before, her costume of brighter colors than that of the other maids that carried other things. Clothes, buckets of hot water, and lastly a tub. I merely watched them as they dragged it all into my bedchamber across the room.

The few maids that definitely belonged to my household curtsied and left without word once they were done. The other kept standing in the room and observed me and Yuan. Both of us stared back, observing this remarkable maid. The style of her clothes was almost the same as that of my household, only it was decorated in a richer way. The patterns on her garments were similarly colored, though the usual white was gold, and the gentle purple made room for a brighter blue. Her shoes were also of finer quality, as were the fine white gloves she wore.

"I don't recall meeting you before," I decided to admit it and then I gestured at the tub in my other room. "My apologies for demanding this just now."

She smiled and shook her head, making her short, loose hair wave around her neck a bit, "That's alright, young master Aurion. My superior, princess Soleila, had warned me about your…" she hesitated, seeking a fitting word. I saw her tongue slowly touch her lip, her teeth softly touching it in thought.  
"She told me you are quite to the point and close to _careless_ at times. She spoke truth, did she not?"

I nodded, not particularly fond of her choice of words, or the emphasis she put on them, but shrugged it off. I wondered aloud, "She's here? Soleila?"

"Not yet. I, among others, have been sent ahead to secure that _princess _Soleila's room and everything else has been taken care of properly. She's to arrive within two days, sir. Now if I may ask, the bath… is it for…" this time she hesitated, but not in the same courtly manner. A look of despise was unmistakable as she looked at Yuan.  
Had he been a heap of shit rather than a boy, her expression would've been similar, if not entirely the same. He didn't reek that bad, did he?

"I'm afraid so. A little misunderstanding occurred this morning, and he almost had to pay with his life for it. I daresay that's a fine waste of my father's Gald. So I'll see to it that he's a bit fresher before returning to the soldiers' kitchens," I could hardly tell this despicable woman of my plans, so I half lied, trying to keep my face straight all the while.

"Ah…" she said. "And _did_ he not have to pay with his life?"

Obviously, she thought it had been better if the soldier had cut Yuan to pieces. But for her to dare question me as such caused something inside me to flare up.

"Would he be here if he had to?" I threw back almost fiercely. How dare she question me!

I already couldn't stand this woman, at all. Her tone of voice when discussing these matters was edging with rudeness, but I couldn't tell her to leave. While she had obeyed my previous request, she had merely done so out of sheer curiosity, not because she actually had to obey me. She wasn't one of my servants, for one. And she was one of the princess' own maids, meaning she was probably superior to me.

I had only been granted my privileges through birth, while this maid had earned her spot through hard work and by earning her superiors' respect. Not to mention that in order to attain such a rank one would have to be of good blood too, most likely. To belittle her would be like belittling the princess herself.  
So I remained silent after my question and waited for her to act first.

"So he can take care of it himself?" it sounded like mockery, and her lips almost curled into a sneer of a grin.

"I believe so," I simply replied, trying to keep my tone as polite as I could manage. We locked eyes for a moment and then she let her heavy eyelids close her brown eyes before curtsying before me.  
"I will leave you to it, young master. If there is anything else I can do for you, just let me know."

With those words she walked out of the room, shooting one last vile glance at Yuan who held the door open for her. He closed it behind her slowly and then let out a shaky sigh of relief. Whereas I'd been annoyed and angered by the maid, Yuan had been terrified to say the least.  
For some reason, it bemused me to see him like it, but I decided not to word it. I got onto my feet and wandered to my bedroom, where the tub had been put. Yuan curiously followed and I grinned as I held up the clothes the maid had put on my bed.

"I think they thought _I_ needed a bath," I said, still smirking. The clothes they'd brought were of fine quality, and my size too. One of the typical clown suits they made me wear. Some frills on the sleeves and the fabric dyed a dark purple. Yuan would look hysterical in them, no doubt.

"Oh well. Just…" I nodded at the tub. "Do your stuff. If you need anything, I'll be around."

I left and sat down at my desk. One of Yuan's words had left me puzzling. Asgard. I'd heard of it, but as I closed my eyes to envision the map of Aselia, I couldn't think of where it was. We were on the far west. I knew that. Then north of us was a patch of Sylvarant, Palmacosta on its southern tip. From there the Sylvarant territory spread across north to the east and around to the south, till it bumped right into Tethe'alla in the far south east again. So somewhere in that long stretch of land lay Asgard. But where?

I lazily opened the top drawer of my desk with my foot and kicked it shut again. I worked down two more drawers like it till I found what I needed and I bent over to grab it. The scroll was tattered and brown and I recall that one of the shreds on it ripped slightly further as I unrolled it onto my desk.

Master Avery had spilled some of his tea on it last winter, and had it not been for my pleas, he'd have thrown it out like garbage. It was the only map I owned, and while most of the northern continents were blotted out by the gross brown tea stain, the rest of the map was still clear, be it slightly yellowish due to age. My eyes dashed all over it, searching far and wide and eventually I concluded that Asgard was positioned somewhere in the stained zone.

Slowly, my eyes still lingering on the stain as if suddenly Asgard would present itself, I began to roll the scroll again. But it couldn't be under the stain, I thought defiantly as I stared at the scroll in my hands. Up there was Flanoir and the frozen lands around it. Then why hadn't I found it? I bit my lip and almost unrolled the scroll again, just to make sure I hadn't missed it.

"I… I'm done."  
I startled and dropped the map into the drawer which was still open, kicking it close hastily. I'd check back later, I promised myself and then turned to look at Yuan. What little embarrassment I'd felt at being unable to find his hometown completely disappeared as I looked at the fellow. I felt the corners of my mouth curl up in a smile, while I fought hard not to burst out laughing.

Not only was I a few inches taller than Yuan, I was also remarkably broader in the shoulders. While it hadn't been all that clear before, his new clothes heavily emphasized it. They completely mismatched him, both size and color. The shirt hung loosely around him, and its sleeves were too long. The purple fabric all but complimented the blue of his hair or the green of his eyes.

"Heh…" I sniffed, trying to muffle the giggle I almost let out. "Let's… find something more _suitable_ for you."

I grabbed him by the shoulder and steered him out of the room. He let me push him about till we almost reached the end of the hall and then resisted, digging his heels into the carpet, causing my chin to bump into his shoulder.

"Sorry!" he squealed as he turned. He raised his hands to try and reach for my face but thought better of it. I raised an eyebrow as I rubbed my aching chin thoughtfully. He stood staring at his feet once more.

"Don't want to be seen like it, eh?"

He shook his head. It made it only more humorous, so I grabbed him by the arm and began to drag him. To my surprise he resisted and within seconds we were struggling, yanking on each other's arms with all our might. Our eyes met and we couldn't help but grin at each other as we gasped. Still, I refused to give up and managed to pull him an inch or two closer to the end of the hallway.

"C'mon," I hissed through gritted teeth.

"No! I don't… want to!" he let out, pulling me back an inch with every word he uttered.

"Okay! Then don't." I let go and he tumbled backwards, falling onto his back. "Go back then. I'll fetch some clothes myself."

I watched him smugly as he crawled onto his feet and scurried back to my room. Then I turned and headed through the hallways without giving it a single thought. I went down a flight of stairs, and automatically headed to the seamstress' quarters.

With a deep breath I braced myself for the chicken coop I was about to enter. Chicken coop, I thought, since the rooms were always filled to the brim with maids doing handiworks, and while they did so, their mouths wouldn't hold still at all. I knocked on the door and was almost pulled in by some young maid who eagerly called for mistress Wood, the head seamstress.

"What can I do for you today, young master?" she said as she threw the cloth she'd been working on over her shoulder. Deciding I could not tell her blatantly what the clothes were for, I quickly thought of a suitable excuse.

"I was wondering if you perhaps have kept some of my older clothes. It'll be no good wearing my decent clothes while training with the sword, you see," I made it sound as natural as I could manage, and decided to blame my blush on the unbearable heat of the room. Despite the noise, some maids had heard me and they began to rush over to an old wardrobe, digging in like their lives lay on the line.

Mistress Wood smiled at me when she noticed my stare, and shook her head at them, her voice slightly strained with disdain as she spoke, "They're adorable, but can be quite the handfuls. Thank you dear."  
The last she added with a more pleasant smile and then she bit her lip as she observed the clothes.  
"I could resize them. You grow so fast these days."

"No, don't bother," I said, and without question I yanked the clothes from her hands. "They probably won't live to tell the tale anyway."

To this she did nothing but smile and I backed out of the room with a polite little nod. Or so I thought.

"Careful!" it was the maid from before. I'd almost knocked the trey she'd been carrying out of her hands. I stepped around her and intended to head back but was grabbed by the back of my collar. She'd handed the trey to someone inside, shooing them so the door closed, and then pulled me so close our noses near touched.

"Listen, brat," she hissed. "I don't know _why_ you did not know yet. But let me tell you this in case your father finds himself too occupied to do it again. When princess Soleila is here, _you _are to accompany her most of the time, and during that time you are to behave like a human being rather than a loose cannon that secretly sneaks out slaves in his spare time. Am I clear?"

Being a spoiled brat comes with the advantage that my parents seldom had time to scold me. Rose had done her share, but never in too negative a manner. She always managed to get it across as gentle advice or a lovely little joke. Other than that I'd always been free to do as I saw fit, and not a single maid –mine or Soleila's- would be able to change that.

So I stared straight into her brown eyes, waiting for her to grasp the fact that I was all but impressed. Finally, she let go off me and I stepped back. Casually and slowly, I moved the garments I'd been holding to one hand so that I could use the other to readjust my collar. For this, I took my time, and when I was done I looked at her, raising an eyebrow slowly in thought.

"That's all?" I asked in my laziest voice. The looks on her face were priceless, and worth any trouble my words might've gotten me into. Her face moved from the impatient anger to shock, only to look utterly annoyed a split second later.

"Yes, that's all," calm as her voice was, I couldn't help but notice a tiny vein near her temple jiggle fiercely.

"Alright then. Have a nice day," I nodded at her, and turned on my heel, heading back for my room. I remember listening intently for the sound of the door as I near strut through the hallway. The sound never came; she'd simply kept staring at me.

When I got to my room, I paused to fold the clothes into a nice ball of sorts. With my elbow, I pushed the door handle down, so that I could kick my door open. With full force I threw the clothes at Yuan. He failed to catch them, obviously hurting a finger or two in the process when the ball of clothes hit them, and he snatched them from the ground.  
His cheeks reddened once more. I grinned at my little bullying victory before happily ordering him, "Go change."

He nodded and darted off into my bedchamber again. Within a minute or so he got back. The clothes fit him well enough, though the faded purple color was still questionable with his eyes so green. He looked down and then looked at me, a bit of an apologetic look on his face.

"Come here you," I said and he did. I took a sleeve of the jacket rolled it up for him. He fussed with the order and eventually both were rolled up neatly.  
"Mmmh," I hummed as I pushed him away to look at him. "It'll do. What did you do with the other clothes?"

"Ah… I… I'll go fold them?" he suggested. I nodded and followed him slowly.

"Nice mess," I observed. He blushed again, and through his embarrassment he only messed up some more.  
"I've don't remem– well, honestly, I've never had more than a simple shirt and some trousers. Never had to fold them since we'd wash them and wear them again once they'd dried," he admitted sullenly and he fiddled on. He finally managed to fold them a bit, and I pulled them apart, showing him a slightly better job.

"What? Don't give me that look," I said. "I'm not used to folding mine either. They do it for me."

"Then… how do you expect me to learn that?" he asked, his eyes lingering on the messy heap I'd made. I shrugged, opened my closet and threw them in carelessly.  
"Let's just leave it to the usual maids to do it. Or perhaps watch them as they do, should they ever do it here…" I suddenly wondered where they folded it. Right after they'd dried, or just here in my room? These were the kinds of things I'd have to find out once my father had agreed; Yuan was going to have to learn to do them all.

The rest of the noon we spent together talking about all sorts of things. He seemed earnestly interested in any story I told him. From my future training, to things of past.

After some time he inquired about my lessons.  
"Now that I've mastered reading and writing, all that's left is history and geography. Basic knowledge, to teach me rights and wrongs of the past of both countries: so I can repeat the events or so that I can prevent them from happening again. That's what my father said it'd be about. It's more like…" I paused looking for a word that would not butcher master Avery's attempts too much, but could not resist just saying it. "Boring. Very boring. He's got this nasal voice that could lull a horde of wild bulls to sleep within a minute or so."

With a vague blush Yuan muttered back that he'd love to learn such things.  
"Could drag you to the old man tomorrow. The moment he starts reading and nuzzling the endless texts he really has no idea what else goes on anymore. Then again, with this heat even he has trouble focusing on what he's doing…" the heat had been put in the back of my head, with all things going on. I tugged on my sleeves, rolling them up a little before continuing.  
"I could teach you how to read and write, maybe. That might be useful for later as well."

"You would?" Yuan asked incredulously.  
"Yeah, why not?" I asked, and instantly regretted I'd done so. It was another thing every other human was prejudiced about. Half-elves supposedly are stupid, dense and most definitely not worth the effort of trying to teach them anything remotely difficult. Just basic tasks they can perform for the rest of their miserable lives. Cleaning, cleaning, more cleaning and fetching stuff. But Yuan seemed clever enough, so once again I couldn't believe the prejudices.

"Well, you know…" he mumbled, his cheeks once more flushing pink. It confirmed my suspicions.

"Nope. Don't wanna hear it," I said quickly, plugging my ears in mockery. "I'm going to teach you how to read. Not sure how yet, but I should manage. We should. Wait, I might have… something…"

So I fetched some old books from my drawers and began to point things out to him. Letters in alphabetical order, full stops and commas. He was eager to learn, and quickly began to recognize the individual letters. Whole words took him more than days, and by the time he'd picked up sentences some weeks had passed.

But long before all that, the evening of that day had passed; and I'd asked my father something I still regret today.

* * *

**Quick scribbles:  
**Names. Oh horrible names. Wood. I should get shot for that one, I admit it.  
Don't worry, the names I stuck on the maid, Aurion senior's servant... Aurion senior himself... they should be a bit better. Tiny bit.

As for Asgard: like I said, anything specified in the game's sequel got thrown right out of the window. So any statement made by any random half-elf that cities were once named differently are disregarded as well. Besides, since the head seamstress is called Wood you wouldn't really want to know what I redubbed Asgard anyway, or would you?

Hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Chapter 1 Part 3

**Tales of Symphonia  
Traitor's Tale**

**A/N's:  
**

Rather short part this time.

EDIT: No longer the 'last' part of the first chapter, due to the simple fact that the first chapter wasn't quite over yet.

EDIT 2: Rewrote most descriptions (no vital info), and took some reviews into consideration as I did. Thank you!

* * *

I headed out for dinner eventually, leaving Yuan in my chambers to puzzle with an old fairytale book I dug up for him. It had lots of pictures and would probably satisfy his needs while I was gone. The real teaching would come later, I promised him, silently praying I could talk my parents into it.

As I headed to the dining room, I tried to think of what to say, and how to bring up the subject of keeping Yuan in the first place. Sadly, none of the versions I'd come up with in the short walk applied to the situation at hand. Only two plates had been set. One at the head of the table, where my father was already seated, and one beside it on the left.  
My mother's plate had not been set, and clearly she wasn't being expected as my father kindly beckoned me, gesturing at the vacant seat beside him.

Whilst inventing ways in which I'd touch upon the subject, I'd not considered my mother's absence. I'd simply hoped for her to be there, for she loved to spoil me. It'd have made talking her into helping me convince my father rather simple. Just dropping a hint about Yuan helping me become the great royal son she'd always wished for, and my mother would have joined sides with me.

Without her, I'd be on my own against my father, one of the most stubborn men in all of Tethe'alla, if not in the entire world.

I sat down quietly, smiling at my father briefly, and I patiently waited for some butlers to bring the food. My father waved them out when they'd put it all down and personally began to load his plate and mine. At least that was an advantage of my dad being at home: he hadn't the patience for my mother's favorite food. A tactician at home, a soldier elsewhere, my father could never press my mother enough about the necessity of a well filled plate.

We ate in silence, until my father decided to take notice of me, "Your hair's a mess."  
I nodded and said nothing as I knew what would come of that comment. He was going to cut it ridiculously short after chasing me down once again. He wasn't one to talk, I always thought, for his own hair was much longer. So long, he held most of it bound in a tail behind his head, which waved down his back messily. What didn't reach the band he used to tie it with hung loose in front of his face, obscuring one eye most of the time.

His question made me wonder if that weren't a better moment to question my choice concerning Yuan, but I had no time to reconsider.

"What have you been up to lately?" my father asked, though he hardly looked at me as he did so. When in my presence, he was generally laid back and did not give a damn about manners, or pretending to be earnestly interested whatsoever. Maybe this lack of interest could be of good use.  
After all, the horse in the stables that was being kept apart for my future use, was only mine because my father had agreed to my demand, without fully realizing what exactly it was I'd demanded. Afterwards, he had – of course - tried to talk me out of it, but a promise is a promise and so he'd kept the young stallion aside for my use only.

"I've been studying," I decided retelling the events of the day would be easiest to get to the right moment. "Master Avery let me go early this morning though, due to the heat. I went outside, planning to lie down in the shade until lunch, but then I witnessed how a soldier almost executed one of your new slaves. He'd hit the cook with magic, but it was an accident!"

The latter I had to add quite fiercely as my father's head had shot up at hearing the word magic. For a moment we locked eyes; this was it then. Now I'd have to explain and ask the one question on my mind, but the moment passed before I could gather the courage to explain further. The intensity of his look had caused my stomach to twist.

So I merely took a shaky little breath, hoping it was quiet.

My father looked down again, focusing his attention on his plate. He leaned his head on a hand, and thoughtlessly chased a tiny ball of potato around with his fork in the other hand.

"Accident, mmh?" he said after some time, as he managed to prick the potato onto his fork.  
"Oh yes," I pressed on, not willing to give up just yet. "The poor little fellow was utterly terrified and felt so sorry for what he'd done. I thought I'd calm him down, and gave him a wash-up too. I mean, if he's to handle fresh products, he better be fresh himself."

My father half choked on the piece of potato and after slamming himself on the chest a few times and swallowing visible, he managed to hoarsely let out, "You what?"

I bit my lip down. Wrong choice of telling, clearly.  
"Kratos, please tell me I just heard you wrong," the man said, his full focus on me. "But did you just say you took a half-elf here? Into _my _mansion?"

I must've nodded, though I could not recall doing so. My insides had turned ice cold and I felt like I was being strangled. Had I just convicted Yuan after all?

"How often must I tell you?" my father seemed too aghast to speak and then pushed his chair back, throwing his fork onto his plate angrily. He took a deep breath, as he folded his arms, his eyes not quite his own as he stared away into nothingness. I knew he did not like half-elves, but this despise ran deeper than I'd ever seen before. It seemed to take forever before he took another deep breath and came to his senses, if only so little.

"Where is he now?"  
"My room…" I answered in a low voice. He shook his head again and then rolled his sleeve up to show a thick bandage around his arm. He beckoned me and I got up. He dragged me to him and then our noses almost touched as he explained in a low growl of a voice.

"This. This is what could've happened to you today," he said, and he began to tear the bandage away. My stomach twisted at the sight of it. The wound was not only a deep gash in his arm, but the edges of the injury were burnt and darkened as if rotting. Magic had hit him there, tearing his flesh away and leaving it scorched…  
He'd only just returned from the battlefield, that I knew, but I had not asked for details.

I did not ask to know them as I stood there either, but he still told me anyway.

"My arm. An officer's face. Countless soldiers. Just three days ago."

I looked up into my father's face, so as to not face the disgusting wound any longer. Something in his eyes was so bitter, I did not know what to say to him. Without question he pulled me into an embrace with his good arm.

"I don't care how nice or innocent that brat is," he whispered into my ear. "But I want you to get rid of him right away. Send him back to the kitchens where he belongs; where soldiers can strike him down if he attempts to harm anyone or tries to escape."

He rubbed my back soothingly, as if he knew the hurt he were causing me, and then held me away at an arm's length to look at me. He smiled wryly as he gave the final answer,  
"I'm sorry Kratos, but it's just the way things work in the world now. They're too dangerous to be kept close. Go bring him back now. If he tries to harm you in any way…"

"He won't," I cut the threat short and turned away. Without an another word I left. I headed to my room in a blur and within a heartbeat I stood in front of my door. I'd failed. Not only would I have to break my promise to Yuan, I had also disappointed my father. It was with a facial expression not my own that I opened the door and stepped inside.

Yuan lay on the carpet, my book in front of him. He looked up with an eager look on his face.  
Had I managed? No, I had not. Get up and leave. Put on those filthy rags and leave. Go and waste your life away in an environment full of dirt and horrible people. Act like you don't know me, as if I truly am the superior you assumed I was. Go!

They were words I could not speak, and as Yuan turned to sit up I merely stared at him. Worse than condemning him to that miserable life again, was the fact that I'd failed.  
I. Kratos Aurion. Had failed.  
No. I refused to admit that. Besides, if I told him so, he'd only hate humans more… most importantly, he'd hate me. A whole new idea came to mind then, and while I knew it was foolish I could not refuse trying it.

So it was with an unnatural voice that I spoke the lie quite easily.

"You can stay," I said. Yuan's face positively beamed with both surprise and joy. His green eyes seemed to sparkle with life all of a sudden.

"Really?" he asked, a smile playing with his lips. I sat down next to him and felt utterly dazed. How hard would it be to hide him from my father? What choices did I have? He could not be my servant, that was a fact now. How much of this could I twist and turn, I wondered.  
Was it worth a try? Yes, it was. I could perhaps satisfy both my father and my new friend… and myself, too, if I tried hard enough.

"There's a catch," I said sternly, trying to plot it all out in my own mind. "My father does not want you to. But I do."

Confusion. It's the only fitting word for the expression that came onto Yuan's face. I did not halt there and quickly began to sum up the giant puzzle in my head.

"He said no, because he thinks you are dangerous to me. He wants you removed from the mansion, to go back to the low kitchens where he says you belong. I say no to that. I refuse to just send you back like that. So here's what I want to do…" I gathered all my courage to decide on it. No turning back. An anxious frown had slipped onto Yuan's face, making my resolve only more absolute. I could not let him down.

"You will go back now, in rags and all. But you will not permanently stay there, I promise. I know all slaves rise at dawn to start cleaning up and preparing before the actual servants come to work. If you and I rise before dawn, we can spend some time together. I can still teach you how to read and write, and eventually that might be your way out of here."

"How?" Yuan asked. I couldn't help but grin cockily at my own devious discovery, proud of the rapid workings of my own mind.  
"The cook can't read."  
It was something Rose had once let me in on. The man generally had her or someone else put together lists of supplies needed, because no matter how hard he tried, he could not get a grip on reading letters. It had only occurred to me just then, but I figured it might very well be the key to solving the problem.

"So if you can, you'll probably gain a little value in the kitchens. Perhaps enough to rise in the ranks, and maybe… to get some coin and… I dunno… I…" I bit my tongue before admitting it. "I just think you deserve to see your father."

Yuan nodded, his enthusiasm less than it had been but the smile was still there. He moved his legs around nervously and scratched his nose.  
"I think it's still very nice of you… even if it didn't work out like you planned…" he admitted. I grinned at him and shrugged casually.

"Not all humans are bad," I said and then in silent confidence I told him. "My dad's a good guy, really, he just… has issues."

Yuan chuckled softly, as did I, and we got up.  
"SO!" I let out loudly, puffing my chest up mockingly. "That's that then. Go put your rags on and come with me. Back to the kitchens. No complaints or arguing!"

Before we parted, I told him I'd be waiting for him outside the slaves' pathetic little stable-for-a-house about two hours before dawn. Not the next morning, but the one after that, so it would not seem too suspicious. Yuan nodded and then bowed courteously before me.

I kept staring at the door that had shut behind him for some time. I had a hard time resisting the urge to just chase in after him, to help him explain it all. When I finally did turn, I felt a shiver pass my spine as a horrid shriek came from inside, but like a 'good' human man I did not look back even once.

How I hated this world for its ways…

* * *

**Author's notes: **  
EDIT 3: Fixed the "replying silently" issue in this chapter. Thank you "oursolemnhour49", for pointing that out to me.

The next chapter is slightly longer, and I'll say it's much more interesting too! Time to get some action in there, eh.  
Hope you enjoyed it thusfar, and perhaps leave a review on the way out?


	4. Chapter 1 Part 4

**Tales of Symphonia  
Traitor's Tale**

**Author's notes:  
**Odd little chapter that after some severe pondering I decided had to be included after all. It introduces two somewhat important characters, and that makes space for the plot to move on and for it to makes sense! Not to mention that it shows young Kratos' inability with... well... just read to see. **  
**

Enjoy!

* * *

The next morning I woke to a gentle sound in the background of my inexplicable dream. At first I assumed it was just my imagination playing tricks on me, or just a storm outside, but I quickly came to realize it was neither. A familiar voice, be it muffled, said my name as the person knocked on my door and I opened my eyes.

I rolled out of bed and stumbled toward the door not quite unlike a drunk man.  
"Yeah, yeah, wait…" I mumbled at the impatient knocking as I groggily fiddled with the lock of my door. After two more knocks and hurting my fingers once more, the lock clicked. The door immediately swung open and hit me right in the head. I groaned, taking a deep breath to start swearing the living hell out of the fool who'd caused me hurt, but the air left my lungs in a sigh as I realized who said fool was.

My father looked down at me, a bit of a vacant expression on his face as he watched how I rubbed my head as I pulled myself together.

"It might wake you up," he commented in a low voice. Apologies? No, anything he did was correct. I'd learned not to argue with that, for it was futile.

I silently wondered what he was here for, and was about to ask when he let himself in and leaned on the edge of the desk with his butt, leaving the door wide open. He gestured for me to close it, which I did.

"Get dressed. Something warm yet loose, that you don't mind throwing in the trash after we're done. Hurry it up, and meet me in the courtyard."

My sleepy stare must've meant a lot to him, for he rolled his eyes.  
"Well?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Go."

I shook my head and hurried into my bedchamber. Clothes. Something warm yet loose? I glanced at the window. Thick drops of rain where drumming against it, which meant the ground would be soggy and dirty. As I stood in front of my wardrobe, I heard the door of my quarters open and close. He was gone. I wondered what my father wanted to do, and then it slowly sank in.

He knew. He knew of my promise to Yuan, and was going to punish me for it. Or he didn't know, I thought near feverishly, and he merely wanted to punish me for the very idea of having trusted a half-elf, if even only so short. Either way, the fact that he'd come himself, at so early an hour, could hardly be good news.

I wandered around my room, trying to make up my mind, when I noticed the clothes I'd gotten for Yuan the day before. I left the purple shirt be, but put the pants on. They were too short, but once I got my boots on, it was hardly noticeable. Heck, I could almost tuck them in. Within a second I'd found an old white shirt in my wardrobe to match it. It had grassy stains on the elbows, but the maid who brought it had told me that it would still suit me for being outdoors. I smiled at myself; I'd scolded her quite vigorously, though it turned out she'd been right. Poor thing. Oh well. How sad. Never mind.

The rain and the wind that forced it against my windows had chased the heat out of the mansion well enough. I reckoned it'd be colder outside, so I settled on wrapping an old cloak around me.

Never before had I been up at so early an hour. It was not just an hour before summery dawn, but at least three, leaving the hallways scarily vacant. Only downstairs, near the kitchens, did I hear people bustle about. I swore I smelled the lush scent of freshly baked bread as I walked past, and my stomach grumbled a bit. For a moment I lingered there but decided against fetching some bread. My father had been a tad too cool, and hadn't he told me to hurry? I went outside.

My father greeted me with a nod and a bit of a smile. Despite the hour, he looked well awake though there was a certain wariness to the look in his eyes that I could not quite label. Worry, perhaps? No, not quite. Maybe he was just still tired from all the events that had recently occurred, whatever they'd been. I was too young to understand half of what a man goes through on the battlefield, but at least I could assume it was a heavy burden. Such assumptions were inferior to the truth, I now know.

He gestured for me to follow him, and I silently did so. It took not time at all for my hair to drip and my simple garments to grow heavy with water; the rain seemed to get heavier as we went.

My father didn't speak until after he'd led me to the training area behind the soldiers' barracks.

"I had a word with your mother yesterday," he said as he undid the lock on the shed where training materials were stored. "She believes your miserable choice yesterday was an act of boredom and naivety. Then I suppose I shall undo you of such boredom. Come in."

He beckoned me with a lazy gesture of his head. I stepped into the small shed and pushed the soaked hair from my brow so I could see. There was a rack with rusty swords, battered shields and some different kinds of axes, each one looking older than the one before. My father ignored them all and instead took two of the wooden swords off the wall. He handed me one and gestured for me to move back out, which I did.

"I believe I've once asked someone to teach you the basics. Did they?" he asked, a grim look on his face. The fact that he could not even recall clearly whether or not he'd ever had anyone teach me concerned me. He wasn't in too foul a mood, but it took no genius to tell he'd rather not be doing this.

Slightly on edge, I picked my words carefully.  
"Master Avery showed me several books on swordplay and strategies of sorts. I did train with some soldiers a few weeks ago, but I think they held back in fear of hurting or embarrassing me."

"Alright. Take a stance. Let's see what you know."

So I did. He shook his head, "Balance your weight. Don't lean back too much. There you go."

And so we went, slowly, step by step. He let me swing at him several times and pointed out when I left my defenses way open, or when my moves would be too easy to counter. Over and over, he let me swing in thin air before allowing me to swing at him. When I did, I found how to correct what I did wrong, but not always.

After making the same mistake twice my father took no moment to try and explain again, but simply let me feel the error. He sidestepped my next wild swing and wacked my back with his sword, knocking me face first into the mud.

"Dead," he said, a smile toying with his lips as he pressed the tip of the wooden blade against my neck. "C'mon."  
He helped me get up and then began to chuckle at my annoyed face. I was covered in dirt, my sight partially obstructed by the hair that stuck to my face due to the mud.

Great, I thought, now he had an actual practical reason for me to keep my hair short. I fierily hoped it did not occur to him and ignorantly wiped my face off, leaving the hair be. One eye, it had to be plenty. Besides, the rain would quickly wash the mud out anyway.

"Try again," he told me, clearly amused. I scooped the wooden sword from the ground and turned it in my hand till it lay comfortably. Once I readjusted my feet, my father nodded to indicate he was ready. Once more, I went for him and did as I'd been told. He still managed to block the strike, but only by wriggling into a near impossible position. It left him open and so I exclaimed in joy as I managed to press the sword against his neck in the next swing.

"Better," he said. "Now that I'm sure you won't accidentally decapitate me or yourself, let's get some actual weight. Give it."

I handed the wooden sword to him and watched as he got back into the shed. I could not help but notice that even in the wet, chilly weather he walked with his head held high and his shoulders squared. With a deep breath, I did the same, though I was fairly sure it wasn't noticeable with the soaked cloak still wrapped around me. I pulled it off and threw it on the ground, so my father could ignorantly step on it as he returned.

"Here, hold this."

He handed me a sword which I took casually with one hand. It almost instantly weighed me down, and I felt my cheeks heat up in embarrassment as I had to grab the handle with both hands to keep it up clumsily.

"Yeah, it's no good," he mumbled to himself and pulled the sword from my hand. My jaw almost dropped as I realized he was carrying three swords with him and seemed to make no effort to do so whatsoever. He fiddled with another, swapping it for the one he'd just taken back, and handed the particularly rusty sword to me.

It was lighter, even though the only difference I could see was that the blade was stained with rust. Other than that, it seemed to be no different from the heavier sword.

"That'll do," my father decided. He threw the one he'd let me try in the dirt, next to my cloak, causing dirt to fly and then he stepped away from me. He whirled the sword he'd picked around twice, and took a stance. I did too and tried to find a way to balance the rusty blade in my right hand.

"Now try that last move you did with that sword."

Easier said than done. Lifting the thing took trouble, and within a few attempted strikes I was out of breath, my arm aching in complaint against the unnatural movements and increase of weight to carry. My father seemed to have no trouble, and I resolved to keep a straight face. I did not want him to know I was bothered by it all.

My father's near arrogant confidence was present in every step he took, present in every glance he gave, even his way of breathing had a certain strength to it. I looked up to him in a way that's hard to explain. No matter how much effort I put into something, he'd always complain it was not good enough, but the tiny smile that he might give was always aplenty to try and impress him. And so I kept going, swing after swing until he knocked me off my feet again.

"Sir Aurion!" someone called. I scrambled to my feet and watched as my father moved toward the lone soldier that had called for him. He came to attention, this soldier, then relaxed by a gesture of my father. He reported about something, and I damned the wind as I could not hear what they were on about thanks to it.

It was seemingly serious, as my father handed the sword to the soldier and went off on his own.

The soldier, a fairly young fellow still, smiled as he came toward me. He, too, didn't seem to be troubled by the weight of the sword whatsoever. I tightened the grip on my own sword to keep my face from twisting in annoyance. I'd have to get stronger, I promised myself.

"Your father is needed elsewhere, young master. He told me to spar with you for another thirty minutes or so, if you want to, sir."

No, I did not want to, for it meant showing off my incapability with the rusty sword. But my father had suggested it, probably for a good reason, so I grudgingly nodded at the guy.  
"Alright then. Just know that…" I gritted my teeth in annoyance of having to admit it. "I've only just begun to learn."

"Oh, I see. I will take it easy then," he made a polite nod, which I disregarded as I took a stance. The soldier raised a hand.

"One moment, please. I'd rather not have my own sword in the way," and so I watched as he loosened the sheathed sword from his belt. He put it on the soggy ground next to the heaviest sword and got up.

One way to quickly teach someone as arrogant as I was, is by pitting him against a formidable opponent. I took no pause in my assault, and even managed to block some of his blows. Finally, our swords clashed together and he stepped closer so that I could hardly withdraw my attack. Our noses almost touched as we leaned on our swords with all our weight.

He was slightly out of breath, his boyish face shiny with sweat as he breathlessly informed me, "If you get in this tight spot, using your legs is inevitable. Shall I demonstrate?"

His blue eyes sparkled. It was probably a much bigger honor to train with me, than I'd initially realized. Either that, or he really was as young as he seemed and merely enjoyed dueling.

"Heh, do your worst," I decided jeeringly, trying to look down at his legs to see. Like I thought, he tried to flail my legs and I pulled back just in time to avoid it. Still, I was not yet fast enough to counter the sword strike he threw and I let my sword drop in defeat as the edge of his blade was pressed against my neck.

"Almost," he said, smiling widely. "You lacked the strength, but you almost blocked it…"

"Almost isn't enough," I replied silently and I bent to pick up the sword. As I did, my arm ached too much and so I let the tip of it rest on the ground. Only then I realized how miserable I felt. Soaked and cold, sweaty nonetheless and covered in upcoming bruises and bumps. On top of it, my stomach had decided to notify me that it was empty, leaving me with a slightly nauseas feeling and a light head.

"I think you fight quite well, for a novice. If I may call you so low a thing…" he said as he, too, took a moment to catch his breath. The guy pulled his helm off to pull the band out of his black hair. I watched as he combed through it with his fingers before tying it back behind his head in a warrior's tail. He'd clumsily clamped his helmet between his knees and hoisted it back up to hold it under his arm.

"I _am_ a novice, so I see no reason why you shouldn't call me so. And thank you," I replied stiffly. "What's your name?"

It hadn't quite mattered as I stood fighting, but now that I took a moment to look at him I'd become curious. He'd been a fair fighter, and even if he'd been holding back, he hadn't hesitated to knock me off my feet once or twice.

"Cole," he replied. "Cole Wilder. Son of Zeal Wilder. Never heard of? Oh well, it doesn't matter, I suppose."

It clearly did, for he seemed rather disappointed that my face had not moved whatsoever at hearing the names. Wilder did seem slightly familiar a name, but not enough for me to be able to label it right away, never mind exclaim my happy realization of finding that I'd been sparring with a member of said family.

"My family has been the personal guard to every heir of the Tethe'allan throne, ever since King Faer reigned, which was about three centuries ago."

"Ah, that Wilder family," I dryly commented as I picked up what was left of my cloak, swinging it over my shoulder. It made a smacking sound as it hit my back. Another bruise in the making, I thought lazily. At least it could not soak me more; I could not think of a single spot the water had not yet reached.

Then I moved over to pick up the heavy sword in my left hand. I hoped I kept my face in place even as my arms complained violently against the weight of it, as I began to drag both swords back to the shed.

"Wilder!" my father's voice. I threw the swords carelessly into the corner and turned just in time to see my father talk to Cole again. Cole glanced toward me and then nodded at my father, before marching away. My father beckoned me then, and I headed toward him.

When I was close, he took me by the shoulders and knelt down so he could face me better.

"Listen, son. I have to leave for a time. Things have been happening, and they simply need my assistance to keep things running smoothly…" he paused and then pulled me into an uncomfortable embrace. "Don't do anything stupid, Kratos."

He squeezed harder and I returned the hug awkwardly. Don't do anything stupid, he said. Was this a farewell?

"What… what happened?" I asked silently as he let go.

Pain. A pained expression flashed across his face, before he forced a smile. His eyes stayed dim though.  
"The Sylvaranti need to be taught their place again. That's all. Be a good lad, and more so, be a good gentleman once princess Soleila arrives, alright? Make her stay here a pleasant one. I'll see to it now that you'll get to practice swordplay daily, and I'll ask Avery to go through some more tactics with you.  
Don't let me down, Kratos…" he got up and pat me on the head, ruffling my messy hair. "Before I go though…"

And before I could react, he grabbed me and heaved me over his shoulder. I struggled, giggling as he tickled me to keep me from kicking about.

"No, shush," he said sternly, though I heard the slight amusement in his voice. "You gotta look good for the princess. Don't want the people to wonder who the tramp is that accompanies her all the time."

He carried me all the way back to the mansion, up to his room. Nobody dared question what he was doing, some even managed to just politely bow or nod as we walked past.

Once we were in his room, my father gestured lazily at Leonardo, his faithful servant, who had just closed the door behind us. He walked up to us and bowed gracefully. Something about the man always unnerved me. For a mere servant he was tall and well-built, as well as tanned. The latter in particular made me suspect he often worked out outside; perhaps he was the one who sparred with my father from time to time.

His light brown hair was kept rather short, probably to keep it clean easiest, but worst I found was his gaze. His dark eyes always seemed to stare much further than skin deep, as if he were staring right into your soul. Behind those dark eyes lurked an even darker sense of humor, sharp and witty, almost belittling.

More than once his comments toward me had caused my father to frown upon him, but he always managed to just shrug them off for reasons I did not understand.  
Why my father trusted him the way he did, I did not understand either.

"Leo, go fetch a bath, some clean clothes, a pair of scissors and a razor or two," my father told him. He nodded and went off, closing the door silently. My father set me down on my feet, but kept a hold on my arm. I dreaded looking like the servant more than anything and stared impishly at the door until he got back.

"Everything is under way, sir. Is there anything else I can do?"

"I assume you've heard of the situation?" my father asked, while he allowed Leonardo to help him out of his soaked jacket.  
"I've already begun to pack your bags," he replied. "Might be able to still clean these garments, if you don't mind them being creased and crumpled on top of your other things."

"No, don't bother. Just clean these boots for me."

My father had let go of me, but running away was futile. And I didn't dare sit down on the couch or the comfortable chairs next to it either. So I stood there, feeling silly.

Apparently, my father had cleaned himself up a bit before meeting whoever had required his attention. On the other hand, my clothes still dripped more than just water. Leonardo apparently noticed my ginger stare at the fresh mud stains on the carpet, for his dark eyes sparkled a bit as he smiled.

"I'll see to it that the room will be cleaned up after all this," he said to no-one in particular. My father nodded and then folded his arms impatiently across his bare chest.

With a sigh he complained, "Imagine being in a hurry while every maid on your way is being too obsessed with her own looks now that the princess is on her way… and servants, too."  
The latter he added with a strange grin at Leonardo. I was too young to understand, but whatever it meant, it must've been funny for the servant rolled his eyes as my father shook his head. A knock came on the door and Leonardo opened it just enough to talk to whoever it was. He turned to look at my father.

"Duke Burne wishes to speak to you. He sent a message just now."

"Oh for…" my father sighed and walked toward him bedchamber. "Tell them I'll come write an answer in a moment! Don't forget to mention for them to pinch their noses for I smell like a wet dog mixed with horse dung…" he added sourly and Leonardo ignored it as he answered whoever was at the door.

"Kratos, listen to me," my father said as he put a shirt on and let Leonardo pull the cuffs of his sleeves straight for him. "I doubt I'll get another chance to speak to you, so please listen carefully. While I'm gone, Leonardo will serve as your servant. It's for your own good. And for heaven's sake, just let him cut your hair now. That's all I'm asking of you."

He slammed me kindly on the shoulder before combing through his damp hair with his fingers.  
"Leo, please explain the rest to him. I've no time," he said apologetically. "Take care."

And out he went. I was confused to say the least. Leonardo was about to close the door, but then stepped aside instead, so as to let in some maids carrying buckets of water and a tub. Another young woman brought in a small wrapped package, one I knew too well. Scissors, combs and the like.

Had my father just abandoned me? I stared dully as they carried the tub into the corner of the chamber, putting a screen up for some privacy. What about my hair? What about the things he wanted to discuss? What about my swordsmanship? What… what about…  
He'd abandoned me. Gone until whenever. If not _forever_. It had sounded serious, but I could not make head or tails of it. For all I knew he'd die on this… whatever he was going to do.

The maids left, and I stomped over to the tub. Fine.

"Let me help you."  
"No, I can undress myself, thank you very much," I half-snarled as I pulled the once white shirt off without hesitation, dropping it where I stood so it made a dull splat.

Great, my father left me with his lunatic servant. Naked.  
And said weirdo was going to cut my hair after my bath. Just a little longer than his own hair. I'd look like a freak, I thought hysterically as I kicked my shoes off grumpily.

I no longer gave a hoot about the fine carpet I was ruining by spilling mud all over it. If this servant was going to clean the room, then he better have some actual work to do, eh?

The man said nothing as I got behind the screen and stepped into the tub wildly, splashing water all around. I let myself sink into the hot water and rubbed my face vigorously, before just grumpily dipping my entire head into the water.

Despite all my frustrations, Leonardo still smiled when I finally decided to come out of the tub. The hot water had only aggravated my aching muscles, not quite helping my mood. I ignored him as I put on the clean clothes that lay on the nearby chair, and it wasn't until I was entirely done that he spoke silently.

"You really despise me, don't you?"

I turned and stared. He sat on the couch, leaning forward with his arms resting on his knees.

"Or is that just how you treat any servant, young master?" he asked seriously. There was no trace left of his smile, or the sparkle in his eyes. He merely looked at me with a weary look on his face, and it wasn't until then that I realized it was still very early. Not just for me, but for him too, most likely.

"I'm sorry," I said, observing my bare feet as I did. "I just… I'm confused, okay?"

I left the question of despise be.

"Then let me explain, if I may…" he gestured at the empty chairs, and I reluctantly sat down on one. "You know the princess is on her way here, right?"

I nodded. He nodded back, once more he seemed to be staring beyond just my eyes as he looked at me.

He clacked his tongue and apparently decided to tell me then.  
"It's because the Sylvaranti have breached the southern defenses. They're trying to get their hands on the capital as we speak. Princess Soleila is being evacuated. But the small group with which she traveled has been ambushed. Luckily, that was not too far from here."

He sighed before carrying on. I noticed how he had dark circles around his eyes, and then I glanced sideways at the mess I'd left behind. He'd already seen to it that my clothes were being cleaned, and judging from the bucket and mop next to the door, he'd already had a go at trying to cleanse the carpets.

"Apparently one soldier died on the spot due to an arrow taken to the chest, and another was severely injured, crippled too, from what I've heard... but they fought off their attackers. Then they managed to reach Sybak to send a message up ahead, asking for assistance. Your father is going to see to it that they can travel on safely, and will then move further south to protect Meltokio…"

I blinked at him, not quite understanding why he knew these things, and so detailed too.  
"How do you-," I began.

"Some servants are fortunate enough to be trusted by their superiors," Leonardo answered sharply, clearly hinting at my insolent behavior. I felt slightly ashamed, but refused to apologize. He was still going to cut my hair, which I found an unforgivable act at the time.

He got up and walked over to the desk on the other side of the room. With a glance back at me, he unfolded the package, revealing a pair of scissors, some razors and a comb.

"Let's get the worst things over with first. Shall we, young master?" he asked polite as ever. He took the stool that stood next to the desk, and heaved it up so he could carry it. I nodded and followed him, into my father's bedchamber. There was no carpet there on one end of the room, meaning it'd be easiest to clean the hair up.

"Not too short, please…" I mumbled as I sat down on the stool.  
"I'll try," he said, pausing as he tugged on a knot in my damp hair with the comb. "But I won't make any promises."

Cutting it took little to no time. When he was done Leonardo handed me a small looking glass, a bit of a grin on his face. It wasn't anywhere nearly as short as his own, though it no longer obstructed my face whatsoever. I cautiously rubbed the back of my head, feeling my hair was shorter, but again, not all that short. I looked at him incredulously; it wasn't what my father had ordered.

"If you promise to let me cut it again for you in three or four weeks, I'm done now," he said, his eyes sparkling naughtily. "I always find you look so sad when it's too short. So..."

"Thank you..." I said breathlessly. While I was never too interested in what I looked like, I found it suited me well, and turned my head in all positions to get a good look at it.

"Do know, if you break that promise, I'll show no mercy."  
He opened and closed the scissors in front of my face threateningly and then put them away. I watched him as he cleaned the floor around the stool before I got up. I gathered some courage then.

"Leonardo? I'm sorry for being so…" I began hesitatingly.  
"Young?" he filled in, his dark eyes sparkling once more. "Between you and me, your father was a lot like you are now. There's still hope. And just call me Leo, _young master_. Now… I believe you haven't had breakfast yet, have you?"

The rest of the day I spent with my father's faithful servant. He turned out to know a lot about swordsmanship, and he helped me read through some book he'd taken from the library. The rest of the noon we spent talking about all kinds of things, although the conversation mainly consisted of my questions and his answers.

Slowly, I began to understand why – even if his blood had been human – Yuan would not have been a good choice for a servant.  
Leo explained to me that a servant was not just an upgraded slave, but was there to protect his master, in trade for his master protecting him too. He did not just clean rooms, or helped my father get dressed. No. He also arranged my father's schedule, saw to it everything went well and smooth too.

It made my head spin, and I couldn't help but think of the princess' serving lady all of a sudden; the one I'd so rudely distracted from her duties the day before. Next time I saw her, I'd apologize for being so stupid, or so I thought.

Little did I know of the circumstances in which I'd meet her again.

* * *

**More notes:  
**Little did he know...

Anyway! References, references, oh my silly brain, why so many references for this?  
First of all, I'd like to say that the tiny line "Oh well. How sad. Never mind." is absolutely not my own invention. I thank the BBC for its old series "It ain't half hot mum" there. I use the phrase too much myself, and could no longer resist using it here. It wasn't too noticeable though.

Cole Wilder. His hair is black as coal, so his name is a mere play on the word. Wilder indeed happens to be Zelos' surname, but he's not directly related to Cole. Will explain in due time.

And last but not least, Leonardo. Or Leo for short. This one was quite a pickle, as every version of him I'd written before was just dead dull. Finally, this morning, when taking a break from other things, it hit me. I could stray miles away and create a boring old man, that would (not quite unlike Avery) bore the crap out of Kratos will all the things he has yet to do, or I could turn him around and make him a bit more bearable. Or maybe I just watched an episode of TMNT this morning.  
Either way, Leo still plays the part I originally designed the servant for, and he turned out not too badly...

So that's that for now!


	5. Chapter 2 Part 1

**Tales of Symphonia  
Kratos  
Traitor's tale**

**Notes:  
**First of all, my sincere apologies for postponing this so long. I wasn't quite sure how far I wanted to go with certain characters, and have spent the past few weeks pondering it over, replaying scenes in my head a dozen times before finally settling down to blindly write. Went back to edit after several days of life dragging me away again, and this is the result.

Secondly, getting to a much more interesting part soon. Told you all in the first chapter, this is going to be lengthy. Very lengthy.

And last but not least, enjoy!

* * *

I hardly slept at all that night, unlike Leonardo who'd fallen asleep on the comfortable chair in my room. By my request, he'd been reading to me, but it had been his eyes, not mine, that slowly sank to a close over and over again. Several times he'd apologized for it, blinking ferociously against his fatigue, but finally he surrendered to it.

The man had been up from as early as four in the morning, till sometime past midnight, all the while busying himself with keeping things in check and keeping me entertained while he was at it. I could hardly blame him, so I'd merely taken the book from his hands, leaving him be.

As I got out of bed that morning, putting on simple garments, I realized only just in time that my father's servant was still present. With shoes in hand, I snuck through my chamber, trying to make as little sound as possible as I went. I'd meet Yuan for the first time that morning.

It was still dark. No rain that morning, but the skies were still filled with clouds. The heat of only two days before seemed to have disappeared entirely, though I had no idea how or why.

I fiddled with the lock, a nerve wracking little task when one is so aware of the noise it makes, but finally it clicked and gave way. I took the shoes from the floor and snuck out, closing the door behind me as gently as I could possibly manage. There I took a deep but shaky breath, and began to make way.

On my socks. I wouldn't put my shoes on until I was outside. It was a resolve I'd made once I realized how hollow the sound of the hard soles was on the cold stone of the staircases and some of the hallway floors.

Twice I paused at corners, to listen for any sound, but at so early an hour not even the kitchens were lively yet. Still, I steered clear of any place where people might gather usually, and after a detour or two, I stood before the door. Once I put my shoes on I carefully opened the door. I held my breath as it squeaked terribly, cursing the rusty hinges in only my mind. Perhaps I'd harass someone to fix them; they might very well be the cause of my mother's constant headaches – a nice excuse like that would convince anyone stupid to believe I was as innocent as I acted to them.

Outside I decided against one of the many plans I'd brewed that night as I'd been lying awake. I initially intended to take a lantern from the stables, to light my way and to be able to read a book or two with Yuan, but that meant having to run the risk of getting found. Reading and writing would have to wait; the fact I was meeting a half-elf my father had forbidden me to interact with was enough of a risk on its own.

So instead, I went in the dark, sidling alongside the walls to the slaves' little hut. Hut, since it really was little more than that. Near the stables I paused, squinting my eyes to look at the dim torch light that revealed only so much. There was some sound there; horses moving around slightly, a hound perhaps still or already awake at the hour, a lost chicken rustling in the straw...

After waiting for several seconds, I concluded there were no people though, and so I moved alongside the back of the building, just to make sure nobody would notice me. Before rushing at Yuan, who already sat outside next to the door of the slaves' tiny hut, I took a moment to calm down. I'd made it. So I wouldn't be able to teach him how to read. Well, pity. At least we could talk a little, have some fun.

When my heart no longer seemed to pound inside my throat, I stepped casually into sight. Even in the dim light of the torch behind him, I saw his green eyes sparkly with joy as he saw me. I beckoned him, and he got close.

"You came…" he whispered, clearly astounded by this. I rolled my eyes, even though he could probably not see it, and then took his arm.

"Come, I know a good place to stay hidden…"

I'd pondered all night long where to stay with him. Dark and silence might make us hard to detect one way, but all the same it might only have made things easier. Should any person decide to come outside for whatever reason, hearing us would be unavoidable. The dark was disposed of easily with a torch or a lantern. The places for two boys to hide were limited, especially if one is the Duke's son, the other a half-elf with bright blue hair.

So I'd resolved to go where nobody would look first. Where nobody would accidentally run into us. And where we'd have several means of escaping, should any person still stumble upon us somehow.

In between the building of the soldiers' kitchens, and my mansion was a tiny alleyway. A dead end due to the walls that embraced our little settlement being at the end of it. Dark and small, with doors on both side that were seldom used. All that was ever put in the alleyway were empty crates and boxes, previously used in the kitchens.

Once there, I pushed Yuan down on a crate and sat down next to him on another.

"No light," I admitted. "So no reading. But it's better than nothing."

It wasn't like he could think of anything better, I thought smugly. Thinking that way made me feel a bit less guilty about it all.

"That's alright. I… I'm sorry…" he suddenly said. I frowned at him.  
"What for?"

"I didn't… well, I didn't really think you'd come. So, I'm sorry for not trusting you," he said. I felt quite certain he was blushing, and resented not being able to see. It amused me thoroughly to hear him like it though, and I couldn't help but grin at it. There was no need to hide that. The darkness really came in handy, I thought, so maybe this wasn't all that bad after all.

"'s alright," I muttered, purposely sounding more disappointed than I actually felt. It was too tempting to tease him, and there was little he could do against it.

"I…. I heard that Lord Aurion left unexpectedly yesterday. Your father, I mean,"

"He did," I said, and scratched my chin in thought. "The war rages on in the south. Princess Soleila is to come here because it's supposed to be safer than her hometown of Meltokio, but apparently the Sylvaranti tried to attack her little travelling group."

"Is she going to be alright?" Yuan asked, sounding a lot more shocked than I felt about it.

"They pulled through to Sybak, but lost some people or something. My father left with some of his men to secure that the rest of their journey goes well. They'll be fine." I added with my childish confidence.  
War was but a word composed of three letters and a lot of talk I did not care about. At least, it was at the time. It was important, that much I knew, but I was too naïve to understand the true consequences of it.

I leaned back, trying to find a more comfortable position and looked up at the sky. The thick clouds from only half an hour before were nowhere to be found. What was left were a small cloud or two, noticeable only because they obstructed the many stars from time to time as they drifted past slowly. That meant there wasn't much wind either. Perhaps it'd become a warm day after all.

I smiled at myself smugly: it'd make a good excuse, should Leonardo or anyone else wonder why I'd been outside so early in the morning. Heat meant needing some fresh air every so often.

I snapped out of my pondering when Yuan stirred a little. Other than teaching him, an effort now impossible, I hadn't any clue what to do with him. Luckily, he wondered aloud about it, so all I had to do was shrug and mumble, "Dunno…"

"We… we could play a game, maybe?" he suggested after a minute of silence. I glanced sideways. The end of the alleyway brought a meager amount of light, and I could see his outline against that ever so slightly. He was leaning on his hands, and I saw him move his legs up and down a bit in a rather nervous fashion.

"What game did you have in mind?" I asked sincerely curious.

I'd hardly ever had any company my own age, and the few times on which I had, playing had been out of bounds. Some of the children were the sons and daughters of minor nobles, whose parents had come to visit my father or my mother. The sons most often acted like they were superior to playing "commoner" games, and had been trained like dogs to sit still and wait patiently whilst their parents spoke of important matters.

I generally withdrew from those lengthy conversations to read or otherwise entertain myself. Anything better than hearing lengthy, boring terms about politics fly across the table all the while.

Their daughters often weren't interested in playing either, more obsessed with all sorts of handiworks. The few that had been interested in playing, I was kept away from by my father and a rather stern Leonardo too. I recalled how once I'd cursed the servant for being so rough when he dragged me away by the arm, saying it was in my best interest. Something about not wanting to give them the wrong impression, whatever that meant.

The only other kids I ever met were the children of soldiers or servants, who, due to circumstances, weren't able to stay behind at home. War had destroyed their homes. Or a fight with "the wife" had caused some misfortune. Sometimes they blamed half-elves on making their villages unlivable. All the same, I wasn't really allowed to spend too much time with them, again for the simple reason that it might do them too much honor.

"Well, it's still very dark. Maybe hide and seek would be fun because of that?" Yuan opted after pondering for a moment.

I got onto my feet.  
"Alright then. Explain what rules you always play that by, and… let's do it…"

And so we threw rock, paper, scissors to decide who'd hide first, and the next thing I knew, I found myself facing the wall, counting to twenty. Searching him turned out to be quite a challenge, and not only because it was too dark to see half my surroundings.

Yuan was actually really good at finding the funniest and tiniest hiding spots, making it all the more pleasurable to succeed in spotting him. When I finally pulled him from behind a barrel, he turned against the wall and began to count.

Whilst running to try and find a place, I realized Yuan was counting. Counting. Just like that. No errors or anything. I was almost about to wonder aloud who had taught him, but realized he'd already reached fifteen. I ducked behind another barrel and had to bite my lip down several times to keep from laughing as he darted past several times.

We played for quite some time, the sun coloring the distant horizon a paler shade of grey mixed with blue, until it was my turn for the twentieth time or so. By then, we'd upped the countdown to fifty, so we could hide further away. Too far, I thought to myself grudgingly as I failed to find him for what seemed to take minutes.

I'd already double-checked everything nearby and once again walked the same circle, counter clockwise this time, still to no avail. Once more, I headed back to the starting point to start all over. I heard him chuckle in the distance, and instantly began to run toward the sound, squinting my eyes as if it'd help me see better.

Still no sign of Yuan. I stepped back to the wall, putting my back against it so as to get a better look at my surroundings. No sign of him near the buildings, or behind the barrels and random crates. No, he wasn't hiding on top of anything either. We'd promised to stay out of the stables and what not, to prevent people from finding us. Had he still…?

"Aah!" I startled to the sudden touch of a hand, only to grow utterly annoyed when I found it was Yuan. He'd been hiding in the bush right next to me. It grew tall against the wall that embraced and protected the mansion and the buildings around it, and was clearly big enough to hide the boy in.

"What the… Yuan, you do realize that the point of this game-," I began, but without question he pulled me close. In the dim light of coming dawn, I saw his green eyes sparkle excitedly, a smile on his face. I tried to release myself from his grasp, but despite his skinny appearance he was quite strong.

"I'll get dirty!" I hissed, trying to slap the leaves from the bush out of my face, to little avail.

"Look!" he said, urging me to come closer. With a groan I stepped into the bush too, only to find it wasn't just a bush. Behind it was a giant crack in the wall, a hole if you will, big enough for Yuan to half-sit in. He let himself fall through it to the other side and with some effort, he managed to help me get through it as well.

My heart pounded with excitement. We were outside. Free.

Before us lay a field with grass grown wild, reaching up to our knees. The wind in the distance blew ripples and patterns into it, playfully touching upon the dashing flowers that stood scattered among the grass here and there. In the far distance I saw the mountains that I'd only ever seen from my mother's bedroom windows, a dark patch of the Forest clearly visible even from so far.

South, I knew. South were the mountains, and south was the Gaoracchia Forest. Beyond them lay Sybak, and beyond the grand Channel lay the capital of our nation. Meltokio.

The wind carried a scent I'd later come to appreciate more than anything. The ocean. Nothing but endless water, starting beside the mountains, ran all the way around the land on which my household lay. It looked so grand, I could hardly comprehend how anyone had ever had the guts to mark it with tiny wave patterns on the maps I'd studied with Master Avery.

"Yuan…" I said breathlessly as I stepped out into the field, to get a better look at everything. "Do you realize what this means?"

He shook his head. I moved toward a big boulder that lay only a few yards away from the wall. I clambered onto it and spread my arms so the fresh wind could touch upon them. Thrilled. I was nothing but thrilled by this discovery.

"We've a place to stay during these hours. A place where I can teach you how to read, because I can bring a lantern here without getting caught… unless…" I hesitated and turned around. All I saw of my mansion was the side. A windowless side; like I should've known. The windows of my bedchambers gazed into the courtyard. My father's windows did too. My mother was the only person whose room I'd ever entered, with windows facing the world to the south. But her windows were always cluttered with self-made curtains and other handiworks that made me cringe.

Here, on the side of the building, we were out of sight.

"No windows," Yuan said, still smiling. He clearly understood what I'd been looking for.

"If you go around the corner there, you can see the entrance to your house. And the road that leads to it. And there, way in the distance, is a tiny settlement of sorts?"

I squinted my eyes in an attempt to see what he was talking about. After searching for a moment, I indeed came to conclude there was a kind of group down there. But it wasn't a settlement. They were people. People on the move, still. My heart sank.

"We have to get out of here," I said, jumping off the boulder. "If they see us, we'll never be able to go here again."

"Huh? What do you mean?" he asked. I shook my head and pulled him back to the crack in the wall by the arm.

"Later. C'mon, hurry up! It's almost dawn."

I managed to force my way through the hole in the wall myself this time, scraping my elbow against the rock but I had no time to whine about it. Once I stood beside the bush, I helped Yuan get through too as he was too slow for my liking.

He refused to move when I pulled on his arm again, a defiant look on his face as he demanded, "What's wrong!"

"Soleila. They wouldn't be here for days, but they're here. I told you, didn't I?" I tried to make sense of my own words. If they'd come here so swiftly, they'd already journeyed on without my father's aid – there was no way you could reach Sybak within a day, never mind only three quarters of one.

"So then I…"  
I turned back to look at him. He stood nervously wringing the bottom of his ragged shirt with his hands. His face was twisted into fear. My heart ached at the sight of it, but there was nothing I could do about it. He was going to have to return and work, like he would every other time we'd meet in the near future.

"Listen, you'll do fine, I'm sure. Just do as you're told and think of… tomorrow morning, if anything goes wrong. You'll have something to look forward to, because I'll be here again, if I can manage. I'll bring some books and a lantern. If I can, I'll meet you behind the wall, alright?" I slammed him on the shoulder confidently.

"But what if you can't!" Yuan asked, his green eyes sparkling with desperation. My own excitement at breaking rules faded to nothingness as I saw him like it. Whatever they'd done to him the day before hadn't been pretty. I couldn't let him down after putting him through that, so I squeezed his shoulder tightly.

"I will. Even if I have to drag you out of your bed myself. I will. Now go…" I told him sternly. He nodded nervously and ran back to their hut. I watched him go, a whirlwind of feelings rushing through me all of a sudden. Clearly, he enjoyed playing as much as I did, but… what would they do to _him_ if they found out? Myself, I did not care about much, but…

I took a deep breath and tried to shake off the terrible idea of it, before heading back.

Just when I was about to reach the door, it swung open and Leonardo ran right into me. With a dexterity I hadn't thought of him, he caught me by the arm to keep me from falling, and then stepped away from me. He let himself fall with his back against the wall, to lean against it heavily as he tried to catch his breath.

"Princess…" Leo began, but he wavered his own words away impatiently with a hand, before pressing the other hand against his chest. "Sorry… moment…"

"Are you alright?" I asked, stepping closer curiously. I saw his remarkably pale face gleam with sweat. Guilt panged through me when I noticed the dark shadows circling his eyes, more so when he began to rub his neck before finally taking a deep, shaky breath. He swallowed visibly before opening his eyes to look at me wearily. Entirely exhausted, more likely.

"Yeah… I mean, yes, young master," he straightened up, but kept standing against the wall. He looked like he was about to pass out any moment, with his eyes closed in annoyance as he tried to regain breath.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Princess, you said?" I asked, trying to sound like I didn't know. His dark eyes opened to look at me, and instantly my heart began to pound. It was this that I hated so much about my father's servant – his piercing stare, that made me feel like confessing anything that was on my mind. After watching me intently for a moment, Leo took another deep breath and looked away, nodding.

"Princess Soleila has arrived. Your mother requested your presence in welcoming her. She thinks it will do you some good to finally put your knowledge about etiquette to the test. But you…" and here he paused, his gaze returning to look at me with that annoying sharpness. I hadn't been in my room, this was the moment of truth. Or rather, the moment in which I had to defy said truth.

"I didn't wish to wake you," I said quickly, trying to focus on his eyebrows instead of his actual eyes. Easier said than done, more so when he raised an eyebrow when I paused a moment too long.

The lie flopped out of my mouth hastily, "I felt dizzy and had a headache when I woke after hardly sleeping at all, so I thought some fresh air would do me good."

"Ah…" Leo let out, accepting the lie reluctantly, and then he bounced into an excited mode I hadn't seen on him before. "Regardless, we've no time to waste. Got to get you dressed proper, and comb your hair. Then I'll escort you to her, and leave to alert the rest of the household of her presence, if Gladia hasn't done so yet. That woman's the worst when it comes to informing others of her ways, if you don't mind me judging… Then it will be nice if you can show the princess around until lunch, after that your mother will probably want her to join her, meaning you'll have some time for yourself, during which you-"

The rest of the way upstairs he talked rapidly, mostly to himself, and by the time we were in my room his voice was hoarse and again, he was out of breath.  
Despite that, he still got together a suitable outfit for me and stood tapping his foot on the floor nervously as I got dressed too slow for his liking. While I was still fiddling with my shoes, he began to tug on my hair with a comb and clacked his tongue impatiently when he found he'd cut part of it uneven.

"Not noticeable," I said defiantly. The man shook his head at me despite my claim and pulled open some drawers to look for scissors. By the time I'd got my shoes on, he'd scurried around both my rooms and I felt so fed up with his stress I grabbed him by the arm when he was about to launch into my wardrobe for a third time.

"Will you calm down!" I said rather loudly, half grinning expectantly. Any expectation of him returning the grin was knocked out of me though.

The look he gave me was terrifying, almost feral in the intenseness of it. Like touching ice, I let go of him and stepped away from him. However scary his dark eyes were, I found no way to avert my gaze, and it wasn't until he dropped his gaze, that I remembered to breathe.

"My apologies," he said, observing his feet as he pulled his sleeve back from where I'd pulled on it. "But I'd rather not disappoint your father."

When I finally found my voice back, I softly mumbled, "It's not noticeable, or you'd have seen it yesterday. My hair, that is."

He tilted his head to a side as he observed me and then shrugged. His mood became no better when he adjusted my collar for me, all the while grumpily staring ahead. It was with little word that he told me to go on ahead, and I didn't react to him verbally after that anymore. The way he'd looked at me had been full of killing intent, or so it felt to me. My stomach felt rather odd, twisted, as I descended the staircase and made my way through the hallways.

Before reaching the entry hall, where Soleila and her followers were meant to wait, I was halted by a touch on my shoulder. Leonardo had caught up with me, and had even managed to change into a formal attire that matched my own, be it far less detailed. He nodded at me gruffly, a tiny smile pulling the corner of his mouth up then. His eyes remained dim though, and I felt wary as I waited for him to say something.

"Be a gentleman. Right side. Ask before acting. Smile. Be polite."

"Smile like you?" I rolled my eyes at him, hoping it would lure out an actual smile. We exchanged a look, and during that his dark eyes began to regain a bit of their usual spark. He tried to hide his smirk and then shook his head.

"Please, Kratos. Just…"  
"I know. I'll do as I've been taught…" apparently lying was becoming more and more natural to me.

Etiquette had never been to my liking. The whole act of keeping up appearances, whilst nobody liked doing so, seemed nothing short of futile to my young age. I'd rather have people be honest and clumsy, than uptight and oh so neat. Still, I had no choice, and as I descended the last staircase into the entry hall, I smiled politely at the princess.

Despite her age, Princess Soleila clearly stood out from the people around her. Even if she hadn't been dressed in a gown so rich a green fabric, her stature would still have pointed her right out. She stood upright, but not like a soldier would. The very way in which she was present had a royal air about it. Her skin was pale and smooth, her hair neatly put in a long braid down her back. The slightest of a smile came onto her thin lips when she saw me. Not quite like the previous times we'd met.

She'd changed. A lot. The wild tomboy she'd been, so young and innocent, always chasing me around whilst her father had been in endless conversations with mine, was nowhere to be found. Last time, a year or so before, her uneven eyes had begun to glisten malignly, her lips curling into a grin for a prank she'd so longed to play on me.  
It had taken three washings for my hair to regain its natural color, after her prank of swapping soap with the tailor's dye…

Now her eyes, one green and the other brown like my own, were calm as they took me in. Some claim she was cursed to have eyes like it, but the most common tale was one of luck. Luck, in that Soleila inherited not her father's or her mother's eyes like anyone else, but one of each parent instead.

My mother had been speaking to her, and turned around to nod at me. Her entire being shouted "behave" at me, or so it felt, and I could do nothing but that as I approached. I curtseyed like I'd been taught and Soleila offered her hand to me graciously. I pressed my lips against it without actually kissing, as was custom, and got up, smiling slightly, hopefully politely.

"My princess," I said, my brain whirring to try and remember what else was expected of me.  
Soleila smiled, "Kratos. Your mother, Lady Aurion, just said you'd be here any moment. It's good you came to prove her right. She… suggested you would take me with you, to show me around the mansion. Will you?"

I was slightly taken aback by her new form of speech. Formal. Posh even. Whoever had taught her had done an impressive job of changing the scallywag girl into this young lady in only a year's time.

Under the pressure of not just my mother, but also Leonardo and even Soleila's servant – Gladia, Leo had called her? – as well as several soldiers watching me, I had no choice but to nod politely and agree to it. I moved to stand beside her, holding out my arm for her to take, and together we left the entry hall.

When the doors were closed behind us by servants, I realized Soleila was shaking slightly beside me. Initially, I felt worried, but the moment I dared to glance at her I couldn't help but sigh. She stood shaking with laughter, the smile I knew so well on her face.

"You fell for it too!" she exclaimed as she nudged me in the ribs. "Your formal face. Priceless."

* * *

**Author's notes:  
**  
Bit of an abrupt ending, but I can't always create cliché'd cliffhanger oneliners to end my chapters with.  
So, Soleila arrived, and I gave her main servant a name. Gladia. My head's still spinning with pretending to know where that came from.

Been having a little trouble lately to keep my mind on this. Not sure if it's safe to say I've lost the feel for it, but it's been increasingly difficult to stick to the subject.

Originally intended to start a little sideplot here, regarding two of my original characters, but decided it against it for time being, as I'm not entirely sure if I will need that plotline later on at all. Why do I say this? Because later on I might still add it, and the very base of it is still in there. Right now it's just "okay", but perhaps later it'll become "oh wow" for it indeed being there. Heh, just me being dreamy.  
ANYWAY! It's too early to dream about future compliments, because I'm being rather sloppy as of late. Next update much, much sooner, since I've had it done for some time. Minor tweaks and ready to go.

And like always, if there's any serious flaws, let me know in form of a review or a private message. Or if you just want to chitchat, feel free!


	6. Chapter 2 Part 2

**Tales of Symphonia  
Kratos  
Traitor's tale**

**A/N:**

Gosh, it's been a while. I've had part of this all along but decided to edit it and throw it around entirely to make it more pleasant to read. It wasn't up to my usual standards at all, but I hope it is now...

First part of chapter 2, which may or may not consist of another 5 parts. I'll have to see when I get there, it all depends on how large the chapters are that I am about to cough up. If all goes well, this time I will truly update much sooner, for the other chapters are written. Might or might not split them up, depending on how well I can keep my head into reading it myself.

But until then... enjoy!

* * *

"You fell for it too!" she exclaimed as she nudged me in the ribs. "Your formal face. Priceless."

I merely blinked my eyes at her a few times, not quite grasping what Soleila was on about, until she playfully prodded me in the stomach with a finger, still smiling brightly. The girl stepped toward me and hugged me without question, letting out a sigh as she buried her face in my shoulder. I stood frozen to her touch, my brain whirring.

"I missed you," she said, her voice a much more girly tone than it had been.  
So she'd been acting. Nothing but acting. I carefully pushed her away and held her at an arm's length, frowning at her. The fine young lady that had walked beside me, and had suggested in so posh a manner what to do was nowhere to be found. Just a girl who played a prank, and was thoroughly enjoying its effects.

"You…" I began slowly, having a hard time to keep myself from growling at her. "You were faking that?"

She nodded, proudly letting out, "Ahuh!"  
"Why?" I asked, incredulously. What little hope I'd had of her finally growing up was seeping away rapidly.

Soleila was still the rough tomboy she'd always been. Obnoxious and too curious for her own good, always running about wanting to know everything. Last time she'd visited, she'd declared how it was unfair that she'd have no say about anything in the life ahead of her, and that she – much like myself – longed to run away from all such things.  
Still, I was but the son of a somewhat influential duke, but she was a princess. And more importantly, she was the sole heir to the throne. Without her, the land would fall apart. Without me… things would most likely carry on.

Even so, Soleila seemed to care little about responsibility, and she flashed me her most dazzling smile as she began to explain.

"Gladia wanted to teach me how to behave like a proper lady, and promised it would help me in getting what I want. It's true, Kratos! In fact…" and she said it slowly, her uneven eyes sparkling naughtily as she bowed her head and peered at me. "If I can convince everyone of how good a princess I am, I might be able to choose freely whom to wed when time comes…"

"Oh," I said and thought it simultaneously.  
So that's what this was about then. She didn't long to please her father, or her most trusted servant. No, she didn't even care for her people to like her as a decent princess, and future queen. All she cared about was…

"So kind sir, will you please accompany me so that your mother will most likely agree with my choice, perhaps even put in a good word for us later on? Mmh?"

Soleila had always had a thing for me, for reasons I could not fathom. I didn't treat her too well on the few times she'd visited, that much I knew, but she always clung onto me as if I were some sort of deity she had to worship. If I told her to bugger off, she'd merely giggle and call me silly. Being young, and a boy at that, I had no clue as to why she acted that way – my father never approved either.

Nowadays, I understand full well why. Courting someone of her stature at so young an age could either secure a lifelong of fair treaties for trade and other social things my young head couldn't get around yet, but it could also end disastrously. Any insult on my behalf could result in an internal conflict between my father and the king, and so I'd always been told to never do anything to Soleila that may suggest love, liking or dislike.

Not sure whether or not it was still that way, with Soleila clinging onto me as I stood there, pondering it all over, I merely shrugged at her, half ignoring her question.

"Let's just go and do as we were told. If you can behave so well, you'd best do it at all times. I'll do the same," I said, though I knew I'd most likely not hold up the pretentious manner all that long.  
Soleila nodded and moved around me, taking only my one arm again and so we went. I showed her around once again, pointing at things she'd seen before, and indicating any possible changes that may have occurred during her long absence.

I much preferred her formal way, for she no longer grinned all the time, and stopped letting out the girly giggles at the most random of moments. Finally, we paused in the courtyard, where I caught a glimpse of Yuan and several other slaves carrying heavy looking crates. I tried to turn away from it, but Soleila had already taken interest in them.

"What strange hair," she decided to look at Yuan of all things. I cast him another glance and shrugged, praying fierily that he hadn't noticed and wouldn't do anything stupid. He didn't, getting on with his terrible chore, dragging a crate along that was almost thrice as big as he was himself.

"Oh come now, Kratos. It's blue like the sky above! That's just odd."

"Half-elf," I commented, hoping the word alone would do the trick. Sadly, it did not.

"I thought the likes of them were meant to be kept hidden during the daytime," Soleila went on, ignoring my attempt at shutting her up. "They're not really so pleasant a sight. Most of them anyway."

"Yes. Well, I'm afraid your visit was somewhat unexpected, so early in the morning. Apparently, the servants ran short of time and ordered these…" I gestured, not really wanting to use any foul words. "These… to just clean up the worst of chores, so that they themselves had time to tend to more important matters."

"We've no slaves in sight at the castle," she said, turning her gaze away from the half-elves as we crossed the courtyard to sit down on a bench in the distance. I let myself fall down on the bench gruffly, grumpily observing all the windows of the mansion, knowing full well that there'd be a dozen people trying to get a look at us there.

"They work in the basement, or well, the dungeons, my father calls them. He also said he'd rather spare me for time being, that dealing with the Tainted scum will be of later worry."

Tainted. Scum. I didn't want to get into any debate, or I'd have asked if she even knew any half-elves to be able to judge them so. So I kept quiet, nodding vaguely at her as she kept talking on and on about her future duties, things she'd not yet been told to do that she already knew of and things like that. It hardly interested me, and I almost wanted to hug Leonardo when he approached. He'd changed clothes, again, looking rather humble compared to the princess' servant who slowly came into sight too.

He kept his distance and bowed his head politely, waiting for Soleila to nod at him.

"Yes?" she asked pleasantly.

Leo opened his mouth to speak but was cut off remorselessly by the princess' own servant. I saw Leo take a deep breath through his nose, his face stiffening for a moment but then his features relaxed, and he let the woman blabber.

"Your highness, it is almost time for a meal. Perhaps not fit a time for lunch or breakfast, but I'd rather not have you feel hungry whatsoever."

"I see. Thank you, Gladia. Though I wonder. This meal is set merely for me, or would there be room for more people?" Soleila asked, glancing at me.

I desperately tried to meet Leonardo's eyes in the meantime, seeking a way out of it all, but he was staring straight ahead, feigning ignorance. As much as he had dared to talk back to me, despite our difference in rank, as quiet he was beside the princess and her servant there and then.  
Clearly, their ranks were far superior to his, and he most reminded me of how he'd always been to me, quietly standing by and observing things almost lazily with those dark eyes of his. Sadly, of his sharp commentary was no trace.

"You heard the princess. Is there room for anyone beside her, Lester?" Gladia asked, her tone belittling if nothing worse.

"I could arrange for someone else to join her royal highness, should she want me to," he answered coolly, still staring at the wall. It took no genius to find out he'd rather strangle Gladia than look at her.

"She obviously wants you to, or she'd not have asked in the first place," she stated the obvious with half a snarl, and the neck in my hair stood on end. Leonardo merely raised an eyebrow however, and glanced at her with a look in his eyes so cold, I'd have cowered in fear.

"Then I will go arrange that. If you'll excuse me…" he bowed before the princess, politely nodding at me before turning on his heels. In the split second our eyes met, I knew he liked it all as little as I did, yet he endured it. And so I would too, I decided.

And so I did.  
The days that followed consisted of me keeping the princess busy at all times, and it wasn't until a week later that I finally found time to meet Yuan again. He held no grudge against me for not having come until then, even less so, when I sat explaining to him all the things I went through to keep Her Royal Pratness satisfied. We laughed about it, and having a companion who could speak freely made things more bearable for me.

Leonardo, however, looked more and more grim, his phrases getting shorter and shorter, and after another week or two had passed, I found him shouting his lungs out at Rose in the kitchens. The woman stood yelling back at him, her cheeks a blazing red, hands on her hips in that oh so familiar motherly manner of hers.

"And then what! We can't feed more mouths than we get food for!" Rose exclaimed.

Leonardo let out a groan and gestured wildly at the soldiers about, "Then you give them less so that those of importance have more!"

"So if they starve we have no defense! A fighting man, or even a freaking farmer needs more food than a bloody stuck up royal who sits around all day!"

"Then cut my share off and give it to the damn princess, for all I care!" Leonardo turned around, taking shaky gasps and he lowered his head as he realized I'd been there all along.  
He was weary and on edge, that much I knew, for Gladia liked nothing better than to remind him he made a poor head of servants in our household. And if it wasn't her belittling him, it was his own staff scowling at him for setting so poor an example. I'd already told the man off several times, for wanting to help me with things I'd never had help with before. My attempts at telling him to leave were meant in a friendly way, but bitter as he'd become, Leo had seemingly taken them as an insult rather than anything.

"My apologies, young master. I-I'd best be off…" he tried to walk past me but I stopped him by stretching out my arm. He let out a sigh and Rose moved closer, putting a hand on his shoulder. Her anger had made room for her usual kind worry.

"Come on," she said and without question she steered him to the storage room. Nobody commented on it, and the chef even told the rest of the staff to get on with what they'd been doing. I closed the door behind us quietly and watched how Rose forced Leonardo to sit down at the old wooden table.

"Honestly, Lester, you're going too far… have you even looked in a mirror lately?"

"Pfft… I'll live…" he scoffed. "And don't call me that."

"Oh?" Rose said, raising both her eyebrows as she began to fiddle with a bottle of sorts, trying to get the cork out of it. "I believe I've not heard them call you anything else for a month now."

"Surnames only, at the castle," he said in a dull tone, after which he grit his teeth as he went on. "But… we're not… at the damn… castle… here…"

I sat down opposite him, studying his weary face curiously. Like Rose had suggested, he did look rather awful. Pale and tired, and he seemed to have lost some weight too. He mumbled a lame thanks as he took the mug that Rose shoved toward him, and drained almost the entire thing in a single go. He kept holding the mug with both hands, staring over it and finally taking notice of me.

"Sorry you had to see that," he said, dropping his gaze as if I were about to beat him up for it.  
Rose dragged a crate toward the table and sat down on it. She shuffled closer to Leo and then put an arm around the man's shoulders, patting him gently.

"No point in worrying over something we can't help, Leo," she reassured him. "The harvest failed. Neither you or I can help that. Sorry for… shouting at you, weirdo."

He snorted, "Yeah. Sure. I'd rather not get more complaints flung at my face, or I might take up sword practice again…"

His dark eyes moved around, finally resting on me.  
"I'm in no position to demand things of you, but I'd be very grateful if you could not tell this to anyone."

"Too late for that, anything happening with any soldier present will be known by half the region within a week's time," Rose said. Leonardo shook his head and raised the mug, smiling at me and drinking the rest of it.

"Though you could indeed not mention _that_ to anyone else," Rose said, taking the mug from Leonardo's hands and ditching it, throwing it into a massive tub with the other dirty dishes. Leonardo let out a lame little chuckle and then leaned forward, placing his arms on the table and resting his chin on them before burying his face into them entirely.

"If you want," I began, his words having interested me, and he raised his head slightly to peer at me. "I could arrange for some sword practice. I haven't had a chance to spar ever since Solei… I mean, _Princess_ Soleila arrived. Since my father took most men with him, it shouldn't be too odd if I asked you… right?"

"I'm rusty and no-," he began.  
"And willing to do it, of course," Rose cut him off. "Besides, if young lord Aurion demands it, what choice do you have? Lester."

She smiled naughtily at him and he let out a sigh, smiling vaguely as he raised his head. He stretched his neck a little. I could hear something make a cracking little sound as he did and he nodded, looking at me thoughtfully.

"I suppose I could. I reckon your father would want you to at least stay in shape during his absence…"

"So you'll do it?" I asked, grinning at him. He nodded, and got onto his feet.

"But I won't make any promises as to when, young master. _Lady_ Gladia demands I be present as much as I possibly can… so I best get going and tell her what I've learned about our provisions… for her amusement if nothing else…" he added darkly, and then went on with a meek smile. "Rose, thank you and, I'm sorry for… yeah. Kratos, I'll let you know when I have time. Hopefully, that won't take too long to find out. Good day…"

As the door closed behind him, Rose let out a sigh and took a sip straight from the bottle she'd opened, before thoughtfully looking at me.

"You know it's only going to cost him more trouble to keep up appearances if he has to add this to his schedule?"

I shrugged, and spoke with a smirk, "It might at least keep him from bashing that lady's skull. Best he teaches me how to do that for him."

Rose waved her finger about, chuckling, "You know you can't do that."

"Pity, huh? Say, Rose… for a while now, I've seen some of the half-elves busying around during daytime. Why?" I asked, though I half knew the answer. Yuan said it was because there were more tasks than ever, and most things simply couldn't be done until dawn. But I wondered what other people thought of it nevertheless.

"Ah… Well, most servants are rather busy to fulfill all of the princess' needs. And her company, too, requires quite some attention."

"Company?" I asked, blinking my eyes.

"You never noticed? The princess not only has a handful of servants to tend to her alone, but there are some minor nobles who have joined her recently. I've heard word that your father might return soon as well. If that's the case, then most likely everything is under control, and there might even be a little celebration of sorts…" she paused to take another sip, and when I said nothing she added to it. "Perhaps you'll even have to get on a knee before the princess."

"What?"

"You're both getting a bit older, Kratos. She's always had a liking for you, and I believe your father thinks it might bring good fortune to both the royal and your own families… it's only a rumor though, but don't look that aghast when the time actually comes. Her royal highness might think you're having a fit," Rose winked at me.

I closed my mouth, realizing I'd let it fall open and then I nodded at her. So Soleila was clingy like it for good reason then. Suddenly, I felt my stomach drop. What if I had to move to the castle with her, when that time came? And what… what if I didn't like her that way at all! She was nothing but an obnoxious child to me at the time. The very image of standing proudly by her side like my father did with my mother; I could not imagine it.

I tried to keep a smile on my face as I left Rose, but my mind grew darker and heavier as I walked back to the mansion. To the terrible doom that awaited me. Accompany the princess, my mother had requested, like she had so many days already – this time, and every time after, I'd not take it so casual anymore. It was with lead in my shoes that I slowly walked back, cursing my own stupidity.

If only I'd mistreated her enough for her to despise me like I disliked her…

Maybe I still could.

* * *

**Author's notes:  
**Just a few quick notes this time.

There's one more chapter to be written before I can post a bit of a bulk, and at the time I will introduce a rather important character. I know, this is taking ages, but the few people who still are interested; thank you for your kindness. I really appreciate it. **  
**

Poor Leo? Maybe. It'll all fall into place. And so will the potential sideplot I mentioned before. It all depends on how far I can actually get. At this pace... not very far, but I've regained some confidence in my writing skills. I hope it showed.

As for those who wonder if Kratos is going to actually ever get to the part I mention in this fanfic summary; oh yes, he will. Notice how a month passed within one part, and how several weeks already passed in the parts before. Time skips are inevitable, and there's a fair few more to come. I'm quite looking forward to it all.  
Until the next time!


	7. Chapter 2 Part 3

**Tales of Symphonia  
Kratos  
Traitor's tale**

**Author's Notes:**

What's this? Another part? Already? Well, I've had some time on my hands... or rather, not at all. But boredom, stress and mental conflict means I ought to distract myself. And so... this was born. Enough about me, more about this chapter. I initially wrote this quite differently, but something was lacking in the style. Or so I thought anyway.  
I rewrote it, placing new and old side by side to make sure everything was in there. Trouble with that, is that I might have overlooked small "reference" errors. When "he" is repeated a thousand times, and all people in the scene are male, it can become quite troublesome to keep track of it whilst rewriting. Should you come across any such an error, do let me know.

As for the rest... Enjoy!

* * *

Another day I can recall quite vividly, is the day on which I found out not only my father could hand out proper punishments.  
Before I'd gone to bed the night before said day, I found a small note on my desk, written in a handwriting I had never seen before. The letters were rather square, slanted slightly to the left, and the few curls that some letters had looked forced at best.

_Tomorrow morning, before breakfast. Courtyard.  
- L_

L.  
Leonardo, no doubt. So he wanted to start sword practice already, but why he had not simply told me had me wondering. He'd been with me most of the day after all.

The man had tended to my needs without question, obviously trying his best to impress the rest of the servants. I'd hardly had a second to breathe on my own, going so far as having him stand behind my chair during dinner, which most reminded me of having an oversized, nervous guard dog watch over me.

Nervous, for clearly, he was getting more and more on edge as the days went by. I occasionally heard other servants mumble behind his back about his lack of sophistication, and his lack of adapting to the true royal ways. Said ways slowly made their way into the mansion, taking control of all of us, whether or not we wanted them to.

Calling each other by surname, announcing when one was arriving and leaving, having a servant by your side always. It just wouldn't end.

At first it hadn't been all that noticeable, but once I realized that Rose had been right about more noblemen staying at our mansion, it became nothing short of obnoxious; having to wait for minutes before every meal, just because every minor noble and their grandma wanted their names called about.

And there, again, Leonardo was lacking, for he forgot to loudly state we were leaving – under the false pretence that I had yet another headache plaguing me.

It had caused Gladia to rush after us into the hallway, and for once, Leonardo had not been patient or kind. He began to argue out loud, stating it was only going to make people worried if they knew I had yet another headache. She, of course, said it was necessary, and so the two of them argued for a time. I could do nothing but smirk when Leonardo spit the woman's first name at her when she, again, called him by his surname.

Bethilda doesn't sound all that impressive, more so if the owner of the name starts to blush violently and swears to kill a man who not only towers well over her, but is also no longer paying attention whatsoever.

He'd turned his back on her to take me to my room, leaving miss Bethilda Gladia behind to splutter on her own, and that was it then. Not a word was said about the note he'd apparently left with me.

I'd gone to bed, and woke way early the next morning. I'd grown used to it. Headaches were only so much a lie, at that, for going to bed late and rising early time and againt has some impact, especially on a growing boy. I groggily rolled out of bed, snuck into my main room to make sure I was alone. I yawned and got dressed, taking shoes in hand like I did always.

It wasn't until I was well outside, and startled due to a pat on the shoulder, that I recalled the note.

"Good morning," Leo said, raising the lantern he carried with him to cast some light on his features.

Had he not alerted me of his presence, I'd have walked right past the man to meet with Yuan. I let out a relieved breath that I hadn't, to which Leo smiled. Obviously, he thought he'd startled me and nothing more, but he said nothing. He merely beckoned me and I followed him, and it wasn't until we were a fair bit away from the front doors that he spoke.

"Sorry for the note, but I'd rather not have anyone find out about this… for now," he explained in a low voice. "See, I'm not entirely sure how much I can teach you, and how much time I've got to do so. I'd rather not get more complaints that I…"

And here he paused, raising his lantern. I followed his gaze curiously, and my heart nearly well stopped. Yuan stood a few yards away from us, leaning his back against the wall of the slaves' little home. We locked gazes, and his eyes widened. I wanted to scream, shout, gesture. Anything to get Yuan out of sight, out of reach. But there wasn't anything I dared to do. And so I stared at him, trying to keep my face straight, perhaps curious, but even that was too late a realization to adapt to.

I felt Leonardo's gaze burn into my skull, and I looked up at him, raising an eyebrow as if curious. He clacked his tongue impatiently and stepped closer to Yuan.

"What are you doing here. Go back in. Now. You saw and heard nothing, understand? Nothing," despite the fact Leo's words were clear as crystal, Yuan lingered for a moment. Perhaps a moment too long, but I was too occupied with not reacting to his confused look, to be sure of it. My eyes darted from Leonardo to Yuan and back again, and in the tiniest moment wherein I thought Leonardo didn't look at me, I dared to nod.

Yuan obviously saw it, for he bowed deeply, "Apologies, sirs. I saw nothing."  
And with that, he rushed back inside, the door closing behind him near soundlessly. Had he practiced that? I fierily wished that was merely my imagination. Leonardo couldn't have noticed Yuan's potential subtlety like that, could he?

"Weird," Leonardo commented, breaking the silence that had followed. I nodded, frantically trying to keep my gaze steady as I looked at his face. His eyebrows. Don't look at his eyes. Look at his eyebrows.

I'd read about it when wandering through the library with Soleila, that some people prefer to look at people's eyebrows to avoid eye contact, but it was harder to do than to read. More so since it was rather dark now that the guy had lowered the hand with which he held the lantern.

He shrugged and walked on, asking nothing, and I let out a sigh as I followed him to the shed where the training weapons were kept. I didn't see where he took it from, but somehow, Leonardo unlocked the door with the key, stepping inside and hanging the lantern from a hook on the wall. Its small flame cast some light into the small space, revealing it was still like it had been weeks before.

Wooden swords, old rusty swords, a battered axe, some old piece of wood that could be used for a makeshift shield. I watched silently how Leonardo contemplated it all, finally handing me a wooden sword with a meek smile.

"I'd rather use proper swords," he said, and then his eyes sparkled deviously in the fashion I had missed for some time. "But it's rather dark, and I think your father will have my head if I bring him yours… then again, I'd like to see him try. Hehe. Anyhow, let's not risk it."

I tried to smile at the comment, but I found it was difficult to do so. I was still dazed by the fact Yuan had been there, and my heart wasn't entirely calm yet. Leonardo raised an eyebrow inquisitively, and finally I managed to pull the corners of my mouth up. He didn't seem too willing to accept it, but he did, leading me outside.

"I could waste time trying to explain some things to you, but I'd rather you just showed me what you can do by now, and then we'll see what I can do to help you improve."

And so we did. He told me the first attack was mine, and so I darted at him. He wasn't gentle, at all, and part of me felt he was relieving himself of quite some stress by flooring me over and over again. The sound of wood clashing in the quiet of morning seemed rather loud to me, but Leonardo reassured me airily it was nothing compared to the sound of my face hitting the dirt. So the challenge was on, and I tried best as I could to find ways to beat him, even if only once.

And I did, more accidentally than anything. After a while we'd begun to talk whilst our swords clashed, and he was rather sourly retorting to one of my "what if" questions, when it happened.

"Well, even if they find out, I can't really lose what I no longer have…"  
He pushed me back out of my attack, stepping back and taking a stance. I saw him beckon me, or rather, I saw his outline gesturing. And so I darted back at him. Leonardo swung his sword, and I raised my own faster than he expected me to, for it hit him square in the face. He groaned, staggering back and dropping his sword when he reached for his face with his hands.

He cursed a few times, swaying slightly as he stepped back into the light of the lantern. I followed him, not quite sure what to do. I hadn't really intended to hit him in the face like that, and I was just about to say it was an accident when Leonardo mumbled darkly.

"That. That's what I meant, Kratos. I can't lose what I don't have. Face. Get it? I can't lose face anymore… Never mind. Oh. Oh shit…" he hissed and sniffed a few times, to no avail, blood running from his nose down his mouth and chin. My stomach twisted, and I moved around him to search for anything to help him. I quickly found a piece of cloth in a box in the shed, which I handed to him.  
He dabbed at his face with it, having thrown his head into his neck whilst squeezing his nose to try and stop the bleeding.

"At least… it wasn't a real sword," I tried carefully. He spit out some blood, wiping his mouth, and then he scoffed.

"Might as well have. Spared me some hassle."

It was too grumpy a comment for me to come up with a sensible reply, so I merely observed my feet for a time. At least he didn't seem to be angry with _me_, I thought, but it didn't quite make things better. Less so when he sighed deeply. He'd upturned a crate and sat down on it, tracing his nose and right cheek with his fingers carefully. His dark eyes were fixed on me all the while, making me feel less comfortable with every passing second.

"Not broken," he said slowly. If that were an attempt to make me feel less guilty, it wasn't sincere enough to work at all. Again, he sighed, and he folded the piece of cloth a few times so the blood was mostly hidden. He stared at it for a time and then threw it aside carelessly, making the folding a waste of effort.

"So who's the Tainted kid?" he asked, in a tone as if he were discussing the weather.

Had he slammed me in the face, I'd have probably felt the same. I stood gawking at him, my heart beginning to pound. The suddenness with which he asked, and the casual way in which he did so, caught me off guard entirely. I'd assumed he had not given it much thought at all anymore. Instead, he was staring at me, or rather, observing me, whilst I stood fidgeting to find a proper answer to it.

I could not.

"You know him, right?" Leonardo asked when I did not reply. He leaned forward a little, resting his elbows on his legs, all the while looking me straight in the eye.

"What makes you say that?" I blurted out desperately. Obviously, it wasn't convincing at all. His reaction, however, wasn't quite what I'd expected it to be.

"I should've known," he said, leaning his head on both hands and covering his eyes with his palms momentarily.  
I watched how he rubbed his eyes and finally he leaned back, lowering his hands to look at me. There was no sign of hatred or disgust on his face. Unlike my father, Leonardo wasn't angry with me. He was disappointed. And somehow, that stung me deeper than anything.

"How long?" he asked.

"A few weeks," I told my feet. Another pause followed, and I heard him get up.

"What do you hope to gain from him, Kratos?"

I shook my head, and stepped back instinctively when he stepped toward me, raising my arms as if afraid he'd hit me in the face. He halted then, freezing on the spot, as if I was the one hitting _him_ rather than the other way around. I watched how his eyes widened, staring into nothingness, his mouth slightly open. I heard his breath catch in the back of his throat, before he managed to speak hoarsely.

"What did Ca… your father. What did your father tell you when he found the first time?"

For a moment, I feared he'd pass out, his eyes glazing over until he closed them when I began to hurriedly explain.  
"He told me it was dangerous. That I shouldn't risk myself by staying near him, and… and that it's wrong! Wrong because he's of different blood. But it's not…" I whispered, not sure whether to try and snap Leonardo out of it. He looked as if he were in pain, his breathing ragged.

"Yuan's my friend, Leo! I don't care what else he is… Please, Leonardo. A-are you alright?"

Leonardo bowed his head and took a deep breath. When he lifted his head, his eyes opening, the corners of his mouth lifted into the weariest smile I'd ever seen on any man's face. He hesitated, but placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"Listen, Kratos. I won't tell anyone, but please, don't seek him out. Don't talk to him. Don't even look at him. Your father might have let him live, and I certainly will if I can help it, but if anyone else finds out…"

"They won't!" I said defiantly.

"You don't know that! Do you honestly want to risk everything for a friend? A half-elf, at that? Kratos, listen to me. Not only are you risking your father's status or your own… you are risking the very life of this so-called friend of yours. Don't you understand?"

Risk Yuan's life? But if nobody else found out…  
I had no time to object, however, for Leonardo grabbed a hold of my other shoulder as well, to shake me thoroughly afterwards.

"Do you know how lucky he is to still be alive in the first place? Don't… don't risk it," he almost pleaded me, squeezing my shoulders, though no longer shaking me. "It's not worth it. Now… go. Just go. Go back to your room. Get dressed. And for Aska's sake, don't mention to anyone what's happened. Alright? If anyone asks why my nose is swollen – because it will if I don't do so soon – you have as little clue as they have. Promise?"

"Y-yeah, alright. But… Leo, what about…" I begun, looking at the swords meaningfully. His gaze followed my own, and I watched his face harden as he made the resolve.

"No. I won't train you. Not until you know your place, and his."

That was it then. I shrugged him off and left the shed, only halting when he called after me. He didn't even bother following me outside, instead asking from afar, "Kratos? What's the kid's name again?"

"What do you care…" I muttered, not caring if he heard or not. He did, however.

"I'd like to know what slave to ask for, when I head there in a bit."

I turned to frown at him. Leonardo leaned against the doorpost, lantern in hand. The other hand touched the side of his nose, thoughtlessly rubbing it for a moment.

"What do you mean, head there?" I asked. He was going to punish Yuan. It was the only reasonable thing I could think of. The screams I'd heard come from the kitchen when Yuan had first been dragged away from me came fresh to mind. I wouldn't put him through that again…

"I want to make sure he understands his place," Leo said. "And like I said, I won't hurt him. For time being."

"For time… What do you mean by that!" I demanded in some astonishment.

For time being. As if he were planning to beat up Yuan some other time.

He shook his head, sighing heavily, "I can't make any promises. I don't intend to hurt the boy, but if someone else finds out about this, then I might be the one ordered to do something about the whole issue. And if that someone happens to be your father, then there's little I can do against it."

"But… but you won't hurt him now, right? If nobody finds out, you'll never have to hurt him!"

What frightened me more than the prospect that anyone might harm Yuan, was the fact that Leonardo himself admitted he'd not refuse such an order. The look on his face was nothing short of gloom, and in that instant, it all confirmed where his loyalties were at. Surely, the man dared to defy Gladia, and dared to speak up to me now. He cared for me, that much was clear, but when it came down to it Leo would never do a thing against my father's will.

"Exactly," he said after a moment of thinking it over. "I won't hurt him, so long as nobody finds out."

I had two options by the looks of it. Either I told him then, and that'd be that. Or I wouldn't, and he'd go and find it out himself, most likely in not too pleasant a way. So I had little choice.

"It's Yuan," I said. "His name, I mean. Yuan."

"Yuan," he repeated carefully. What he did then shocked me more than anything. He bowed his head, like a true servant would, and he placed a hand across his heart as he spoke.

"I won't hurt him. You have my word, young master."

"T-thanks, Leo…" I said stiffly, turning on my heel and heading back to the mansion. As I walked my vision blurred, my head pounding terribly all of a sudden. It was over. I'd lost my friend, and I'd lost my father's servant's support. I'd disappointed the man, ruining my own chance of practicing with swords and having nobody left to talk to during the endless days.

And worse, if anyone else ever found out about it, Yuan was going to be the one paying the price! They'd hurt him, make him scream his lungs out, or worse. They'd kill him and that was that. Just another half-elf gone. One step closer to ending that so-called Taint.

I groaned in frustration as I yanked the front doors of the mansion open, uncaring of the noise that the creaky hinges made. I didn't bother closing them behind me either.  
If Leonardo was going to be the amazing servant again, he might as well close them for me. Even as I stomped up the staircases, I couldn't shrug off the annoyance that had grabbed a hold of me, nor could I care less about whom I might wake for making such noise.

Finally, I got into my room, slamming the heavy wooden door shut hard enough for a crack to form on the doorpost. I stared at it and groaned, turning my back on it.

Tears stung in my eyes and I will simply admit that I didn't respond sensibly to anything for several hours. I went on a rampage in my room, starting by letting myself fall down on the chair next to my desk, and slamming my forehead right into the wood. I groaned in pain, and closed my eyes in annoyance.  
I kept sitting bent over like that, my butt hardly still touching the edge of my seat. I was completely out of breath and sat listening to my heart, which was hard to miss with the force with which it beat. My head pounded on the very rhythm, aching terribly.

I'd broken my promise. I had taught Yuan how to read a bit, and I'd taught him to write a handful of words, but no more. We'd established his name was written with a Y, because he liked how that looked, and he could write my name too. And then he knew how to scribble some basic words, but no more.  
There was a sack we'd hidden in the crevice in the wall, which led to our secret hideout. A sack I'd filled with some old books, two old quills, a jar of ink and some empty parchment. Surely, Yuan could still sneak out to use them, but never for a second did I believe he'd be able to get far without my help.

Slowly, I raised my head. I saw there was a scroll on my desk, one I'd used to try and teach Yuan some more complicated words, and I picked it up. I unrolled it with trembling hands and stared at it, the words dancing in front of my eyes before I crumpled the thing entirely. It was the first, but certainly not the last scroll that perished by my hands that day.

I knocked books off my desk, off my shelves, threw scrolls around, shredding some to pieces and lastly I ignored all knocks that came on the door all day. Breakfast and lunch went by, the sun crawling from under the horizon to as far above it as it could manage.

And only then the door opened. I turned to stare at it, wanting to shout it was rude to disturb anyone without knocking first, but the words died in the back of my throat at the sight of the men that had entered.

* * *

**A/N's: **

("GET DOWN! FBI!" came to mind there. Oh well.)

Not so cheesy a cliffhanger this time. I mean, it ain't cheesy; I'm just being pure evil by letting it hang this way.  
Got most of the next chapter done too, and after that it'll be edit fest for a short while. Finally...

Lots of dialogue in the middle, which... I think requires some more practice. I can never tell if it makes sense, if it reads smooth, or what.  
Does it?

_Bethilda._ Bwahaha! No offense if it's your name. But you have to admit: combined with Gladia, it just sounds reaaally weird. What can I say? I simply had to give Leonardo _something_ to take his revenge, even if it's just so tiny a moment. And it puts a smile on Kratos' face. Bonus!

And finally... ThePurpleRose deserves a big bear hug for constantly nagg... remin... oh, just c'mere you! :D

Until next time!


	8. Chapter 2 Part 4

**Tales of Symphonia  
Kratos  
Traitor's tale**

**Author's notes: **

So this took a lot longer than it should have, and for that I apologize. It's been near done for weeks, but every time again I ended up messing up in the middle. After speaking to a good old friend last night for a while, I found myself incapable of postponing it any further, and I spent a good two hours puzzling to make the dialogue finally match up.  
Reason it was so difficult, is because of the fact there is a timeskip now. The first of few that are necessary to move this thing on. If my assumption is correct, I'll need another full chapter before I can progress into the depth of war, this probably marking the last or second-last part of this chapter. I'll see when I split.

Hope it's become as clear as I think it is, and without further ado... Enjoy!

* * *

Leonardo had been right: there was a dark bruise forming on the side of his nose, where I'd hit him with the mockery of a sword. Guilty as I felt, it wasn't the reason my heart skipped several beats as I gawked at him and the man next to him.

My father merely raised an eyebrow, his eyes slowly taking in the mess I'd made of my room. Books and scrolls lay scattered across the floor, some whole, others shred and torn. Two of those books lay right beside the door, and my father looked at them for some time, studying their bent shapes as if he'd never seen such a thing in his life. I'd thrown them against the wall some time ago.

One because it was about a nobleman who happily managed to slaughter countless half-elves, and was praised for it – a story nothing but unfit for one my age, come to think of it now – and the other because it had simply been in range of the first.

Whilst he stared at the books, I looked at him, and my self-pity made room for a strange mixture of guilt and worry.

The man most resembled Leonardo, weary and much skinnier than I recalled him to be. But worse than that was the fact that he was injured. His chest was bare, filthy bandages wrapped around it, and in turn one of his better cloaks hung loosely around his shoulders to cover that up a little. A curious burn marked his cheek and chin, the edges blackened as if seared.

It had a reminiscent look to it, but I had no time to stop and think about it, my eyes wandering over the man's appearance some more. The knees of his trousers were tattered, revealing yet another bandage around his left leg. His boots had lost their shine, and there were stains on them. Brown stains, and my stomach twisted at the sight of them. Blood. Dried blood.

I forced myself to look up again, and noticed his hair was messier than I'd ever seen it; untied and hanging loosely down his shoulders. Adding it all up, he looked quite savage, but somehow, there was a certain calmness to him as he eyed the room up and down, finally resting his gaze on me.

"Well," my father said, his voice low and hoarse, a smile toying with his lips as he went on. "I believe you've a room to tend to, before anything."

"Oh?" Leonardo remarked airily. "I wonder what gave you the idea, my lord."

My father rolled his eyes at the backtalk, sighing deeply, and he gestured at the room with a hand impatiently, before extending said hand to me. Leonardo scurried past his master to gently push me aside, into my father's direction.

He wriggled his fingers at me in a beckoning manner, smiling whilst he did, and so I reached for my father's hand, taking it carefully. He reeled me in and ruffled my hair, sighing again, this time with satisfaction. Without word, he steered me outside of the room, and we began to walk, leaving Leonardo behind in the mess.

I wondered sullenly if the servant would recognize any of the scrolls and books, and if he'd link them to Yuan and I. But even if he did, there was nothing I could do about it anymore.

It was that simple fact – the realization that there was nothing I could do at all to change things – that made me realize how tired and miserable I truly felt. It was futile to argue any further, futile to try and fix what I'd broken, lest anyone else find out. It was over. It was unfair. And in that, it ended. The simple realization that it was over, that I'd not risk Yuan like it, and that I'd never again meet him as an equal, brought a strange peace to my tattered mind.

And so I blindly clung onto my father's hand, letting him guide me through the mansion. Despite his weariness, my father's grip was strong, his hand warm, and whether or not he was aware of my reasons for clinging onto him so desperately, I did not care; he was home, and he was safe, and he was mine.

He led me to his room, where Soleila sat waiting for us, accompanied by Gladia who stood by the wall opposite the door. Her grim eyes lingered on me and I could've sworn I saw a flicker of disapproval pass her face, before she bowed before us in a most gracious manner.

I merely nodded at her, and then at my father when he gestured at the vacant chair beside Soleila. As I sat down I looked at my knees, observing them quietly so as to not face Soleila or her servant. I looked a mess and I knew it. I hadn't changed clothes since sparring against Leonardo, the grassy stains on my trousers showing it clearly, and I hadn't washed up or brushed my hair, nor had I tried to hide the fact I'd been crying yet.

I felt Soleila's curious gaze bore into my skull, and so I was grateful when my father began to speak.

"I'd have asked Leonardo, but I have found him a more urgent matter to attend to," my father said in a bittersweet tone to Gladia. "Could you instead get us some tea? Granted princess Soleila doesn't mind your absence for a moment, of course."

"No, that's fine. I'd quite like some tea, actually," Soleila said in her proudest formal voice. It made the hair in my neck stand on end, but I kept my tongue.

"As you wish, your highness. Lord Aurion," Gladia said, addressing them in turn and leaving me out of it entirely. Even as she bowed before us, she seemed to think of me as little more than air, and I refused to look back, instead keeping my gaze fixed on my father until the door slammed shut. He sighed almost instantly and shook his head.

"Just a moment, please. I'd rather look somewhat presentable… if I can…" he mumbled, and he stalked off into his bedroom.

It took him less time to dress up nicely than it took for Gladia to return with a tray of cups and a steaming pot of tea. As she put it all in place, my father combed his hair in the doorway of his bedroom, giving up rather rapidly on trying to untangle the mess when the comb almost broke in half on the go. He rolled his eyes and made a bit of a show of pulling the comb out of it, causing Soleila to giggle at him. He resolved the issue by binding his hair back in the usual tail instead, be it a lot messier than I'd ever seen it.

"It'll have to do," he said as he sat down opposite us. "Thank you, Bethilda."

Miserable as I felt, a meager smile tugged on the corner of my mouth, more so when Gladia glanced at me angrily, her jaw clenching ever so slightly. She said nothing, however, and after nodding politely she withdrew to stand by the wall again. My smile completed itself when my father shook his head at her, almost as if berating her for something.

"Now, I'd rather keep this private to these two. So if you don't mind…" he said and he gestured at the door rather lazily. Soleila took a moment to take the cue, but then she turned and smiled broadly at her serving woman.

"That's fine. Gladia, please wait outside."

And so she did, leaving my father to pour us all some tea and after he stirred around his cup with a spoon, despite not having put any sugar in, he finally focused his gaze on us again. Bemused as he had seemed before, grim was he then.

"I've some bad news, I'm afraid. And some good news, as well…" the latter he added reluctantly, as if it was nothing compared to the rest of the news. And my suspicion was proven right instantly, as he put the spoon down with utmost care, taking half a minute to put it in place. A tic of his, to try and bring order to chaos, no matter how small.  
We waited patiently for him to finally leave the spoon to rest, perfectly aligned with everything on his desk, and then he took a deep breath before speaking.

"The good news is… your father and family are alright, your highness. Most of them, that is. Duke Cecil was not so fortunate, nor was his estate…"

He trailed off and slowly pushed the spoon off the table, a vacant expression on his face. The sound it made as it hit the barren floor around his desk rang in the air for what seemed to take minutes. Neither Soleila or me dared to break the hollow quiet, and I glanced at her to see she had lowered her gaze, her face set dim.  
The name Cecil hardly rang any bell, but the face of a bit of a chubby old man came to mind. He held an estate with a large piece of land down south, one I'd visited maybe once in the few years I'd lived. Thinking about it, made me realize it was probably a cousin to my father, if not my mother, but more than that assumption I could not find in my memories.

After clearing his throat and taking a sip of the steaming cup, my father nodded to himself and went on.  
"The Sylvaranti have massacred the place… and that's gently spoken. Worse, however, is that they lay claim to the land. They were scarily precise in what they destroyed, and looking back at it, we should've realized why. The main buildings and the barracks that guard half the area were left untouched.  
"They've now a new base down south, meaning that once more they gain on us. Not just east and north… but south as well. With the amount of men I have already patrolling up north, to keep Palmacosta at bay, and the few men I've sent to the capital, I've little left to try and reclaim what was lost. Especially after our losses…"

"And yet… you've returned," Soleila pointed out, her tone carefully airy, for she obviously full well knew how dangerous a point she made. Declaring my father a coward who ran, would do a lot of damage to both Tethe'alla and our household.

My father gave her a stern look, one from which I'd have averted my gaze, but Soleila did not. She seemed to take on the challenge, casually raising her cup of tea to her lips and taking a sip, her eyes still on my father's face.

I picked up my cup too then, hoping my father would not give me that scary stare of his. The tea was warm, the steam tickling my chin as I tightly held onto the cup and raised it to take a careful sip. In all my frustration earlier, I'd not realized how cold a day it was.  
The fact I wore but a simple shirt and ragged, thin trousers did not really help much in warming me. I had the strange urge to see if I could crawl into my teacup, to try and get more of its warmth, but I left the childish thought hanging, instead taking another sip.

It was bitter, no sugar, but I didn't dare move for some with my father looming over his desk the way he did.

After another quiet minute of staring at one another, my father managed a weary smile. He rubbed his chest slightly before he moved his hand up to carefully touch the peculiar burn on his chin. The more I looked at the burn, the more familiar it seemed, but I couldn't fathom why.

"A dead man can't fight," he said in a low voice. "Nor can a man in poor shape. What I _can_ do… is make sure the ones that can still fight do the right things at the right times."

"So you will command them from afar?" Soleila wondered. I felt as if I'd missed out on a massive part of the conversation, as if in their silence they'd spoken more than I had heard.

"Perhaps up close, too. There have been stirrings in the Forests. Reports say that the Sylvaranti have been trying to traverse it, but as you well know…"

"The place is haunted," Soleila said, to which I scoffed. They turned to look at me, as if they noticed my existence only then.

"What?" I said, somewhat defiantly. "The place isn't truly haunted, is it? It's a natural maze, according to master Avery, and too dark to see a thing at that, making it only harder to pass through it."

My father nodded, the slightest of a smile passing through his gaze, as if proud that I knew.  
"You're right, Kratos. But what I was hinting at, was the fact that we control a small part of the forest. There are a few villages, or well… tribes that live there, and we offered peace to them some time ago. In turn, they promised to keep out any a traveler who does not wear our colors."

"But can't the Sylvaranti people just disguise themselves then?" Soleila asked.

"They don't know this. The tribes used to kill anyone, you see, regardless of circumstance. The fact they are now somewhat picky is probably not very noticeable to the Sylvaranti…" my father said, and he drained his cup of tea in one go, slamming it down on the desk before swiping it off it just as well.

It slammed into the wall and shattered, leaving a different hollow sound to ring through the room.

He sighed and leaned forward, resting his head on his hands, his fingers rubbing his temples. It wasn't his violent gesture, the sound of the thing shattering, or the fact Soleila looked so startled that disturbed me most. No. It was the fact my father looked so tired all of a sudden.

Old.

As a child, you learn to respect your elders, for they always seem so superior. They know everything, have seen it all, and know how you ought to behave to be able to do the same someday. Seeing them in a moment of weakness, however brief, makes you realize how they are but human too.

It made me realize that he felt as bad, if not worse, as I did, for all sorts of reasons, and suddenly my worries concerning Yuan and Leonardo's knowledge seemed but trivial.  
Tiny specks on a giant painting, hardly noticeable for anyone lest they know they are there. My father didn't know, and so he did not see or care, and probably never would. He had the full picture to worry about already.

It was strange to see him take yet another shaky breath, letting out a deep sigh before he lowered his hands and leaned back in his chair, his eyes resting on nothing in particular as he spoke the last things on his mind almost thoughtlessly. It was almost as if his mouth moved without his consent, his voice calmer than it had been all day.

"That aside… the future looks grim. There is no way we can escort you back home safely, with the amount of Sylvaranti that are about. They took half-elves into their ranks, their magic more dangerous than anything I have ever seen…" he paused again, and in that moment I realized why the burn on his face seemed so familiar.

His arm had bore a deep cut just as vile, only a few weeks earlier. Cut and burned, magic searing his skin as if he were a pig to be branded. My stomach twisted, and the magic I'd seen spark off Yuan's hands when we'd first ever met came to mind. But he would never do that to me, I knew. Or would he?

"So your father and I discussed all possible means, and we've made our choice. Soleila, my princess…" and here he lowered his gaze to look her in the eye. "You are to stay here, until the roads are safe again. It may take days, it may take months, or even more. We cannot say. But know you are most welcome here."

"I know I am, sir. And for that I am grateful."

"Kratos," my father set his weary gaze on me, and I nodded, leaving my thoughts about Yuan behind. "You're probably wondering why I asked for your presence. It's simple, yet complicated. Whilst recovering from my injuries, the King visited me several times. We discussed the future for a long time, as well as the past. And soon we found ourselves smiling at the thought of our children growing up…"

He paused for a moment, inclining his head and looking at me as if he were truly imagining for me to have grown. When he went on, he spoke more seriously, as if his head and mouth had reconnected somehow.

"There was a time our blood did not mingle, my dearest sister passing away of illness before she could grant Tethe'alla an heir. Yet, despite that… the King holds our family in high regard. We spoke of possibilities, and whilst the two of you are still young, I want you to realize that perhaps someday our lineages should finally cross again. For the sake of Tethe'alla, as well as the sakes of our families. Kratos… I trust you know what I expect from you…"

My heart was suddenly in my throat, and it seemed to take hours before I managed to avert my gaze and open my mouth to react. I did not want it. And thinking back about it, my father's approach was all but subtle, but his weariness had obviously left him so careless. It did not help in convincing me it was the right thing to do.

Love… was not a political thing. Young as I was, I understood that already. No, love was a thing that would happen eventually, as Rose had told me with a smile, and only when it did, I'd understand.  
Being unable to explain myself, I merely shook my head at my father, closing my mouth without a single word passing my lips.

It was no more I could do, and no more I dared to. He mistook it for some boyish prank, perhaps, for he chuckled and smiled warmly at me.

"It's a lot to think about, isn't it? Trust me, it will take time, Kratos. You'll understand eventually. As will you, Soleila. For now, I don't want either of you to get ahead of yourselves. But keep it in mind, that perhaps someday you will stand side by side. I trust for you to treat our guest well, Kratos. You may go now…"

And with that my father let us go. Soleila tried to cling onto me, but before she could, Leonardo politely requested a private moment with me – the man had been waiting in the hallway, staring sternly at Gladia without apparently having said a word.

I was confused to say the least, but Soleila happily ran off to tell her own servant the news. I followed Leonardo's gaze, waiting until they were out of sight, and then curiously looked at him. He waited another moment, which I thought was odd, but most likely he didn't wish for them to be in hearing range.

"Let's make a deal…" he said in a low voice, putting a hand on my shoulder as he finally looked me in the eye. "You don't want this, and I am aware that you don't. Your father, on the other hand, isn't so much aware. And I'd like to keep it that way.  
"You… are not going to ruin what little grip on this nation he's got left. The possibilities of this arrangement are grand, and for the good of all of Tethe'alla. So I want you to just pretend you're alright with his decision, lest anyone _suddenly_ find out about a half-elf boy named Yuan… Get what I mean?"

He added the words with a look so dark, I could hardly believe my ears. He threatened me. Me. But arguing he was not to address me like this any longer was futile. I had nothing to get back at him; so long as he knew about Yuan, I had no choice but agree. And so I did, nodding slowly. My shock must've been clear on my face, for he nodded gravely, squeezing my shoulder a little.

"I'm sorry, young master. But all of us do what we must. And I expect no different from Caleb's son…" he said as the corner of his mouth jerked upwards in a small smile. "Make him proud. It'll do you good in the end, I promise."

He pat me on the shoulder before he let go. Without another word, without even another look, Leonardo walked away, leaving me to stare at his back and shortly after, the empty hallway. My head spun with all the things that had happened, my body aching terribly as my fatigue finally caught up with me.

I'd lost Yuan, had behaved too childish for anyone to take my word concerning him, and now I'd been given away to perhaps marry a girl I did not like or love within only a matter of years.

My father stepped out of his room after I lingered a little while longer, that much I recall, and I quickly scurried off, mumbling about a bath. I did not want to face him, nor explain to him what had caused my fit of rage earlier, or tell him the reasons for which I was still outside his room.

The times that followed I scarcely recall, every new day becoming as terrible as the one before it. Princess Soleila demanded I be with her as much as I could manage, leaving me to sit next to her dully, sharing in conversations about subjects I knew little to nothing about.

Her talk of our future as king and queen seemed to enter one ear to leave the other shortly after – it was too distant to imagine.

The days seemed endless, more so when it came to studying. I was to learn everything by heart, from history to geography, both myths and fact. Every little detail that might one day come in handy was stamped into my skull in the early afternoons by master Avery, but not until after I'd already been completely demolished at sword practice each morning.

My father had seen to it that I was allowed to train next to other future soldiers and knights. Cole, whom I'd met before, took great pleasure in accompanying me there, but not as a friend or a companion. He most reminded me of an obnoxious large guard dog, as if someone had told him to protect me against Aska knows what.

Whether or not the guy cared more about me as a person or if it was all about my title, I did not know, and never found out. Our tutor made sure we had no time to exchange words or pleasantries.  
We'd arrive and pick our weapons for the day, often quarreling quickly over the better few arms, and once we'd settled in our places and stances, our teacher explained briskly the next move or new situations, if not simply letting us go all out against one another.

The man was tall and broad, his skin bronzed by a life lived under the sun, and he had little patience for anyone in particular. Unlike my fellow trainees, who treated me with more respect and stiffness than I wanted anyone to, the man treated me like he would any other, never once pausing to consider I was at least four years younger than the youngest trainee already there.

They were ahead of me when it came to expertise and knowledge – plus shape, for I was the shortest and slimmest among them – but with the man's unbiased treatment, and everyone else's expectancies, I refused to give up so easily.

A stubbornness grew in me, one worse than the attitude I'd already had, and it was all I had to shield me against the harshness of my newly found way of living. I swiftly learned to hold my tongue, to quietly observe and follow orders as they came.

Sometimes Soleila would come to watch, accompanied by Gladia of course. She'd cheer me on and afterwards she'd look so proud, as if it were great to see me bite the dust over and over again. But like so often, I kept my tongue. Just nod and accept, for Yuan's sake.

He was still serving in the kitchens, and sometimes we'd look at one another, but no more than that. If anyone noticed, they held quiet well enough. Leonardo in particular, though once he noticed and gave me a meaningful look, which was slammed right off his face by Rose who began to scold him for "glaring at the young master" like such.

I missed her, but was often too wearied in the few hours I had for myself to go and visit her. The few times I did, Leonardo always seemed present one way or another, as if to shield me from Yuan who was scurrying about in the background.

And so days went by slowly, turning to weeks and months, and even after all seasons had passed us – not once or twice, but thrice, the years creeping past, there was no insight of when Soleila could return home.

The war had gone from bad to worse, now seriously threatening to destroy all we knew. Sylvarant's despicable efforts were starting to pay off, their troops of half-elven soldiers feared far and wide, but our country refused to mimic them in their efforts.

Instead, the few half-elves on our side were commanded to help design and build monstrous machines. Like cannons shooting giant blasts of magic, these machines popped up more and more often, one of them even being installed in the new guard tower which had been built near the crossroad down south.

"Nigh indestructible, capable of felling a small army in a single blast, at the cost of draining the one controlling it entirely for days," my father had told me gravely, not paying me much attention at all, instead grinning at Leonardo's effort to cut my hair. "Several soldiers have died firing a few, but in trade, an entire platoon drops dead. A dozen of half-elves died among those wretched idiots as well. A small price to pay…"

It left me wondering how this magic worked, these energies used to fire the dangerous weaponry, but our library held only so much word of it. We were humans, not elves, and in our inability to control it, we sought no knowledge of it.  
Magic. Magi-technology, however, was a word I came across quite often. Human bodies could not manipulate the force known as Mana, but we were capable of letting devices do it for us – so these cannons were based on that concept.

Once, in the beginning of autumn that year, my father was forced to send all forces to fend off invaders in the forest down south. It became so serious a fight, even the trainees were sent to aid the men. All save me.

I wryly sat staring at the pages of a book when Soleila quietly came to sit beside me in the library. She'd gone more quiet as time had passed, the three or so years doing her good that way. I watched how she put an arm around me, once again trying to make a move, and I merely accepted her touch, sighing.

"You haven't even flipped pages…" she commented meekly as she gazed at the book. It was true.  
I'd grabbed a random book from the shelves that morning, slamming it open and demanding she leave me be. Only about half a page had managed to hold my interest, after which my mind had begun to wander again, thinking about the fighting.

Leonardo had informed me I was not to join the others, for it was too much of a risk. I'd argued it was one sword less, to which he said that it would also be one corpse less by the end of the day. The insult had stung me but I'd merely glared at him for a time until he bowed his head and withdrew quietly, but not before commenting that he'd rather be of use as well.

In that I'd realized we weren't all that different. Leo had begun to train vigorously by my father's recommendation, his body still fairly slim but no longer skinny or brittle. Thinking about it, the servant probably longed to fight to protect us as well.

Soleila prodded my cheek, snapping me out of my grim thoughts, and I looked at her for a time. Her blonde lock of hair again obstructed her darker eye, the other blinking curiously.

"Why so sour, Kratos?" she asked. I shrugged and closed the book.

"I'd had hoped for my training to be of some use by now…" I said, clearing my throat afterwards once again. My voice had gained the delightful tendency to waver in and out of control, something which both my father and Leonardo loved to tease me about.

My father commented first, saying it was the price to pay to become a man, after which Leonardo made a rather suggestive movement which earned him a whack in the skull with a heavy iron gauntlet, and a rather lethal glance from my father.

Soleila seemed to think it was cute, however, and smiled at my discomfort as she moved her finger from my cheek to my nose playfully, "But your training _is _useful… for me."

She looked at me, squeezing my arm and then leaning back again. Yes, I'd grown a bit bulkier than I had been, my muscles firmer than a few seasons before. But all the same, I failed to understand what she found so interesting about it.

"Want to go for a walk?"

"It's raining…" I said after casting a glance at the window.

"We can ask your lousy _manservant _to carry our umbrella. Lester makes such funny faces when displeased, after all. And I bet being soaking wet will do the trick," she chuckled at the thought.  
Manservant. It had become the joke of the mansion, for ever since my father had returned, Leonardo took all the same old stress in with a much brighter look on things. Not a single complaint, and even with the added pressure of my father's demands, he seemed nothing but delighted to serve him.

People joked he was in love with my father, something which I found unthinkable, if not simply despicable.  
Surely, my mother would've had him hang for even thinking about it. Not to mention I all but believed my father had such interests. Leonardo was bizarre enough in his ways, but my father would've thrown him out a long time ago, had he ever done such things.

And still, I seemed to be the only one to make such sense of it. But sharing that was too much a hassle. Last thing I needed was a massive argument with anyone about a meager servant. Imagine the scandal…

"Kratos? Are you still with me?"

"Sorry," I said, getting up and successfully shrugging her off. "We could just not bother the man and go by ourselves."

"If you carry the-,"

"I will, I will," I mumbled as I put the book back on the shelf. So after putting on some suitable clothes, we ended up outside. Like promised, I carried the umbrella, Soleila naturally clinging onto my free arm for dear life, trying to get me to smile back at her.

Several times she complained about still feeling drops of rain, and I ended up half soaked by the time she was finally pleased with where I positioned the dang umbrella. By then we'd reached the far end of our land, the northern gates still open so we had a gorgeous view of the ocean far up north.

Plans had been made to reestablish the harbor there, despite the treaty with Palmacosta that neither Sylvaranti or Tethe'allan ship would ever sail through the channel that kept their land and ours apart; lots of materials had been stashed inside the walls, if not to build up the old buildings of the abandoned harbor, then to expand our own buildings and the tower down south.

In the meantime, Soleila had begun to talk about summer, and how she longed for it to return soon. Or snow.  
Snow was nice, much prettier than rain, she said. I begged to differ but kept my mouth shut, merely nodding to her words. Slowly, her words died out as well, and we quietly walked on, the cold ocean breeze toying with our hair.

"Why must you be so quiet all the time, Kratos?" Soleila suddenly demanded. I looked at her, trying to make sense of her words.

Time and again, I'd told her that I still had no interest in a future with her the way everyone had seemingly planned. And to that, she'd never react normally. She'd scowl or mumble that it was just the way it was, and that she did like me. I simply didn't feel that way, and my head couldn't get a grip on all the lousy things she did for a hobby. Without that, and without a future to discuss, I had little left to say. And so I told her once again.

"I've nothing to say, your highness," I said stiffly, emphasizing the last words only so much.

"You've got plenty to say, don't lie to me! Whenever you meet that stupid servant of yours, or that maid in the kitchen, you won't stop talking. But whenever I'm near, you start to act like everyone else does! Let's respect the princess by boring her to death…"

"We behave the way we were told to," I simply stated. She let go of my arm and folded her arms, glaring at me all the while. I stopped, not quite bothering with keeping the umbrella over her head anymore.

"I want you to just talk to me, like you'd talk to them. There's nobody around half the time, so what do you care about those stupid rules?"

"Not doing it keeps us from slipping up when there _are_ people around, Soleila," I summed it up once again.  
It was a pointless conversation we'd had before, one we'd have more often, most likely. Anytime now, she'd stalk off to cry someplace, to return when told to by her servant. But she did not. Not yet, instead I saw rage take her, a furious blush claiming her cheeks at a rapid pace.

"As if they'll stand by the side of our bed once we get married! They won't! I want to get to know you better, Kratos. We're both stuck in this, so we might as well make the most of it!"

Bed. The throne will need an heir, some day, my father had said. But to think she'd bring it up, whilst I'd refused to even kiss her, it caused something to snap inside me. I couldn't stand her, at all. Her voice screeching through my skull time and again, her arrogant manners, her girly giggle, the constant lying she did.

With every time I tried to convince myself I could live with all that, it only seemed to get worse, and so my mind roamed free as I shouted back at her.

"Fine! Make the most of it _this_ way then: find someone else, who does care about all those mediocre things you won't shut up about!" I told her, pulling the umbrella away from her entirely then. "There's a war going on, Soleila, and because you've got a childish crush on me, I've not even the right to stand up and put to use all I've learned.  
"No, I'm to sit here and babysit you. Again! Hours, and hours of work and dedication, going to waste because you like me despite all the times I've tried to insult or hurt you! I don't understand you, and I don't want to understand!"

So she did run off crying then, but not before I threw the umbrella at her feet and stalked off around the wall myself. I glanced back only once, to see she'd reached the doors of the mansion in the distance, the umbrella still on the ground, and then I merely stomped on blindly. Maybe this had fixed it all. Or broken.

Whatever it was to be called, it had happened. I walked all the way around the walls, thinking I'd use the hole in it to get back fastest, but something stopped me from doing so.

His green eyes widened in awe as he looked up at me. The half-elf boy sat inside the lack of wall, legs pulled up and a familiar book resting against his knees. It was the perfect shelter, out of sight from those within the walls, and far from the road. And more importantly, dry and out of the wind.

For a moment, Yuan and I merely locked eyes, taking each other in. It was wrong, and yet, I couldn't help but feel a smile tug at the corner of my mouth. After clearly hesitating, he began to smile back, and within no time at all we were smirking at each other like the idiots we were.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. "And how did you…"

"Walked around," I said, not wanting to explain. "Are you… are you really reading that?"

He cast a glance at the book and nodded a few times, seemingly smug.  
"I understand most of it now. Not all, but a lot. I found more words in the kitchens. Grocery lists and such."

It was strange to sit down next to him in the hole in the wall, both of us having grown considerably, making it rather crammed. But at that we grinned stupidly, and despite the fact we had not spoken in months, it felt like the most natural thing to do. It felt like home.

* * *

**Author's notes:**

Let me simply sum things up, to prevent confusion.

Kratos' age. Twelve at the start, and now fifteen, close to sixteen due to the three years that passed. I can't be sure entirely since I don't know what season he was born in, but he's hit puberty... Spirits help us.

In Aska's name - "Oh God.", "By the gods!"; reality, fantasy... and so this too.  
Since there's a high probability of the Summon Spirits being revered as gods, Aska made most sense to me. If not for being a guide and the epitome of choice (two heads, two paths?), then for the fact he embodies Light.

Leo Lester said "lest". How punny. I noticed, I grinned, I left it be.  
And on that note; _manservant._ Considering who I based Leonardo on, it was to be expected, though the extent of his fondness for Caleb won't be revealed, lest I ever get to write that side story. See? I did it again - messily this time. Ohoho grammar, you silly thing.

Love. Having Kratos describe it a few times, from both childish and mature perspectives, is utterly disastrous to try and do. In my defense, Kratos admitted that the only woman he ever truly loved was Anna... which was four thousand years later... awful long time for a man to not know what love is.

Caleb's spoon - developing OCD is often a natural reaction to severe mental trauma. War does that to a man. And an inside joke, since I'm fairly fond of spoons.

Oh, Yuan... crammed into a hole in a wall with Kratos. Hopeless duo.

So now there are a lot of things that can happen... and I am fairly certain none of you will be able to predict what will happen. I'm so mean.  
Next chapter is a mere case of editing for the life of me, since I wrote it several months ago and the style is slightly different, as are some details. Might take a while, but hopefully not as long as this one took!

Hope you enjoyed, and until next time!


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